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LIBRARY 

OF  THE 

University  of  California. 


GIFT    OK1 


Mrs.  SARAH  P.  WALS WORTH. 

Received  October,  18Q4. 
^Accessions  No.5~7  S^f^>  .      Class  No.  . 


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SERMOIS 


ON    CERTAIN    OF 


THE    LESS    PROMINENT 


FACTS  AND  REFERENCES  IN  SACRED 


STORY. 


t  y>  "i 


BY 


HENRY  MELYILL,  B.  D., 

PRINCIPAL  OF   THE   EAST  INDIA  COLLEGE, 

AND  CHAPLAIN  TO  THE  TOWER  OF  LONDON. 


SECOND  SERIES. 


STANFORD  AND  SWORDS,  139  BROADWAY. 

1846. 


&  X  S/  3  3 
f  3 


JOHN  R.  M'GOWN,  PRINTER,  128,  FULTON-STREET. 


SERMONS 


ON  CERTAIN  OF  THE 


LESS  PROMINENT  FACTS  AND  REFERENCES  IN  SACRED  STORY. 


SECOND  SERIES. 


SERMON   I. 


THE  YOUNG  MAN  IN  THE  LINEN  CLOTH. 


"  And  there  followed  him  a  certain  youn?  man,  having  a  linen  cloth  cast  about  his  naked  body;  and  the  youns  men 
laid  hold  an  him :  and  he  left  the  linen  cloth,  and  fled  from  them  naked." — St.  Mark,  xiv.  51,  52. 


St.  Mark  is  the  only  Evangelist  who 
mentions  this  occurrence:  we  cannot, 
therefore,  as  we  often  may,  by  a  com- 
parison of  accounts,  obtain  a  fuller  nar- 
rative of  facts,  and  thereby  settle  with 
more  precision  what  particular  truths 
may  have  been  illustrated  or  enforced. 
But  if  we  have  only  this  single  account, 
it  2roes  sufficiently  into  detail  to  afford 
much  scope  for  thought  and  inquiry; 
the  facts  would  not  have  been  related 
at  all,  and  much  less  with  such  careful 
accuracy,  had  they  not  been  facts  which 
it  was  important  for  us  to  know;  and 
they  would  have  been  related,  we  may 
venture  to  believe,  more  than  once,  had 
not  their  single  statement  sufficed  for 
information  and  instruction. 

That  it  was  a  young  man,  though  no 
clue  is  given  to  his  name  or  condition ; 
that  he  followed  Christ,  when  his  pro- 
fessed disciples  forsook  him  and  fled ; 
that  he  a v as  clad  in  a  linen  cloth;  that 
his  linen  cloth  was  his  only  garment; 
that  he  Was  seized  by  the  young  men 
who  were  hurrying1  Jesus  to  the  hi<di 
priest;  that,  being  thus  seized,  he  strug- 


i  gled  away,  but  left  his  garment  behind — 
these  facts  are  all  given  with  evident 
carefulness  of  detail,  the  Evangelist  ap- 
pearing anxious  that  we  should  not  pass 
over  the  occurrence  as  though  it  were 
unimportant,  but  should  pause  and  con- 
sider why  it  was  permitted  to  happen, 
or  why,  at  least,  it  was  directed  to  be 
recorded. 

Whatever  is  in  any  way  connected 
with  the  apprehension,  trial,  and  cruci- 
fixion of  our  blessed  Redeemer,  ought 
to  possess  for  us  a  special  interest ;  an 
incident  which  we  might  have  passed 
over  as  of  no  great  importance,  had  it 
not  been  associated  with  such  awful 
transactions,  acquires  solemnity,  and  de- 
mands attention,  when  found  in  that  se- 
ries of  events,  of  which  it  is  hard  to  say 
whether  it  should  most  move  our  awe 
or  our  gratitude. 

We  cannot,  therefore,  content  our- 
selves with  a  brief  or  cursory  notice  of 
the  circumstances  related  in  our  text. 
We  rather  regard  it  as  intended  to  be 
made  the  subject  of  patient  and  prayer- 
ful meditation,  and  as  fraught  with  deep 


THE  YOUNG  MAN   IN  THE  LINEN   CLOTH. 


and  mystic  significance.  The  facts, 
though  given,  as  we  have  seen,  with 
considerable  detail,  are  abruptly  intro- 
duced, and  as  abruptly  dismissed.  The 
young  man  is  brought  suddenly  on  the 
scene:  we  are  not  informed  whether  he 
was  a  disciple  of  Christ :  there  is  no 
mention  of  his  motive  in  following  Christ 
at  such  a  moment  and  in  such  a  dress ; 
so  soon  as  he  has  escaped  from  the 
crowd,  not  a  word  is  added  which  might 
assist  us  in  conjecturing  why  the  Evan- 
gelist interrupted  the  course  of  his  nar- 
rative, to  insert  what  seems  to  have  so 
little  to  do  with  the  tragic  story  of  our 
Lord's  closing  scene. 

This  very  abruptness,  this  very  mys- 
teriousness,  should  obtain  for  the  facts 
bur  serious  attention.  We  ought  to  be 
convinced  that  what  is  so  strangely  in- 
troduced was  designed  to  arrest  our 
thoughts,  and  to  reward  the  study  of 
which  we  might  make  it  the  subject. 
Let  us  then,  without  further  preface, 
apply  ourselves  to  the  examination  of 
the  facts  which  St.  Mark  sets  before  us 
in  the  words  of  our  text.  As  our  blessed 
Redeemer  is  being  hurried  from  Geth- 
semane  to  the  palace  of  the  high  priest, 
let  us  join  ourselves  to  the  crowd,  and 
endeavor  to  ascertain  what  there  was  to 
deserve  the  being  specially  noted  by  the 
sacred  historian,  in  that  Christ  was  fol- 
lowed by  a  young  man,  with  a  linen 
cloth  cast  about  his  naked  body;  that 
this  young  man  was  seized  on  by  the 
rabble;  and  that  "he  left  the  linen  cloth 
and  fled  from  them  naked." 

Now  we  will  first  glance  at  the  more 
ordinary  comment  which  is  put  on  the 
facts,  though  with  no  purpose  of  recom- 
mending it  as  in  any  sense  satisfactory, 
but  rather  that  we  may  show  it  to  be 
vague  and  inadequate.  You  are  to  ob- 
serve the  point  of  time  at  which  the  facts 
now  before  us  occurred.  Our  Lord  had 
just  passed  through  his  fearful  agony  in 
the  garden,' when  his  sweat  had  been,  as 
it  were,  great  drops  of  blood,  and  thrice 
had  He  entreated,  that,  if  it  were  pos- 
sible, the  cup  might  pass  from  Him.  On 
his  returning  a  third  time  to  his  disci- 
ples, who,  notwithstanding  the  awful- 
ness  of  the  hour,  had  been  overcome 
with  sleep,  He  was  met  by  Judas,  one 
of  the  twelve,  who  had  come  accompa- 
nied by  a  great  multitude  with  swords 
and  staves  to  seize  Him,  and  carry  Him 
before  the  high  priest.    Gethsemane  was 


at  the  foot  of  the  Mount  of  Olives ;  when, 
therefore,  Judas  and  his  crew  had  seized 
upon  Christ,  they  had  to  pass  through 
the  suburbs  of  the  city,  where  any  tu- 
mult in  the  dead  of  the  night  may  have 
been  most  unusual,  in  order  to  reach  the 
high  priest's  palace.  And  the  common 
supposition  is,  that  the  young  man,  wa- 
kened by  the  strange  disturbance  in  the 
street,  had  thrown  a  sheet  round  him, 
as  the  first  thing  which  came  to  hand ; 
that  he  had  then  rushed  down  to  inquire 
the  cause  of  the  uproar;  and  that,  hear- 
ing of  the  apprehension  of  Jesus,  whom 
he  must  have  known  by  report,  or  to 
whom  he  may  have  been  secretly  at- 
tached, he  determined  to  follow,  whe- 
ther from  curiosity  or  a  better  motive, 
that  he  might  see  how  the  matter  would 
end. 

But  if  this  were  all,  it  would  really  be 
hard  to  say  for  what  purpose,  or  with 
what  view,  the  facts  have  been  recorded. 
Admitting  that  all  Scripture  has  been 
written  for  our  learning,  it  might  not  be 
easy  to  understand  what  particular  les- 
sons were  conveyed  through  the  men- 
tion of  a  young  man  who  had  been 
roused  from  his  sleep  by  a  noise  in  the 
street,  who  had  not  waited  to  dress  him- 
self before  hurrying  to  find  out  what 
occasioned  the  tumult,  and  who  was 
handled  somewhat  roughly  by  the  crowd 
with  whom  he  had  mixed  in  so  strange 
an  attire.  To  say  nothing  of  the  many 
improbabilities  in  the  story  as  thus  ex- 
plained, for  surely  it  was  in  the  highest 
degree  improbable  that  any  one  would 
have  descended  into  the  street  in  the 
middle  of  the  night,  with  nothing  but  a 
sheet  thrown  round  him;  or,  at  all 
events,  that,  if  he  had  come  to  the  door 
in  this  dress,  he  would  have  thought  of 
following  the  crowd  into  the  city  with- 
out waiting  to  put  on  some  garment ; — 
but  passing  by  these  improbabilities, 
and  allowing  that  we  have  nothing  but 
the  account  of  a  young  man  who  did  a 
strange  and  foolish  thing,  what  are  we 
the  better  for  the  narrative  ?  What 
light  does  it  throw  on  the  concluding- 
scenes  of  Christ's  life?  What  informa- 
tion, or  what  instruction,  does  it  furnish 
us  in  any  way  in  keeping  with  the  tre- 
mendous occurrences  which  the  Evan- 
gelist had  taken  in  hand  to  narrate  1 

The  commentators,  indeed,  remark 
that  the  treatment  which  the  young  man 
received,  shows  that  the  whole  transac- 


THE  YOUNG  MAN  IN  THE  LINEN  CLOTH. 


tion  was  conducted  with  extreme  vio- 
lence, and  threfore  serves  to  make  it  the 
more  memorable  that  the  Apostles  had 
all  been  suffered  to  escape,  and  the  more 
evident  that  Christ  had  secretly  and 
powerfully  influenced  the  minds  of  the 
fierce  rabble  by  whom  He  had  been 
seized.  But  we  do  not  see  that  it  can 
fairly  be  said,  on  the  explanation  just 
given  of  the  occurrence  in  question,  that 
the  crowd  treated  the  young  man  with 
any  great  violence :  the  best-humored 
mob  might  lay  hold  of  a  person  who 
joined  them  in  so  strange  an  attire;  and 
his  own  fear,  rather  than  their  fury,  mav 
have  occasioned  his  fleeing  awav,  and 
leaving  his  garment  behind.  Had  they 
been  set  on  doing  him  a  mischief,  they 
might  easily  have  prevented  his  escape. 
Hence  the  common  explanation  of  the 
incidents  before  us,  resolving  them  into 
a  mere  working  of  curiosity  on  the  part 
of  the  young-  man,  and  of  ill-nature  on 
that  of  the  crowd,  can  hardly  be  pro- 
nounced other  than  utterly  unsatisfac- 
tory. It  leaves  the  facts  themselves 
most  improbable,  and  the  reasons  for 
their  having  been  related  quite  insuffi- 
cient;  so  that  you  must,  we  think,  he 
ready  to  acknowledge  that  there  is  good 
ground  for  our  searching  for  some  deeper 
interpretation,  for  our  concluding  that 
the  Evangelist  designed  to  convey  some 
more  important  intimations  than  have 
yet  been  derived,  when  he  brought  so 
strangely  into  his  story  this  unknown 
young  man,  and  as  strangely  dismissed 
him — as  though  a  spectre  had  suddenly 
risen  in  the  midst  of  the  crowd,  and  then 
had  as  suddenly  disappeared. 

But  now  let  us  examine  more  atten- 
tively what  the  dress  was  which  this 
young  man  wore;  we  maybe  thereby 
enabled  to  form  a  more  correct  opinion 
as  to  the  occurrences  under  review. 
You  often  meet  with  the  mention  of 
linen  in  the  New  Testament ;  but  you 
are  not  to  think  that,  whenever  the  word 
occurs  in  English,  the  same  word  occurs 
in  the  Greek.  For  example,  you  read 
of  the  rich  man  in  the  parable,  that  he 
was  "clothed  in  purple  and  line  linen." 
You  read  also,  in  the  Book  of  Revela- 
tion, that  it  was  granted  unto  the  Lamb's 
wife,  "that  she  should  be  arrayed  in 
fine  linen,  clean  and  white,  for  the  fine 
linen  is  the  righteousness  of  saints." 
But  the  linen  spoken  of  in  these  cases 
is  defined  in   the   original  by  a  totally 


different  word  from  that  used  in  our 
text.  Indeed,  the  word  used  in  our 
text  occurs  but  seldom  in  the  New  Tes- 
tament, and,  what  is  very  remarkable, 
in  every  other  place  in  which  it  occurs, 
it  relates  to  the  garment  which  it  was 
then  customary  to  wrap  round  the  dead. 
'•  When  Joseph  had  taken  the  body,  he 
wrapped  it  in  a  clean  linen  cloth  ;" — in 
a  clean  sindon,  for  that  is  the  word, — 
or,  as  we  should  probably  have  said,  in 
a  clean  shroud.  11ms  again,  it  is  said 
by  St.  Mark,  in  regard  of  Joseph  of 
Arhnathea,  and  the  body  of  our  Lord, 
'•he  bought  fine  linen,  and  took  him 
down,  and  wrapped  him  in  the  linen." 
Here  the  use  of  the  words  "line  linen" 
at  one  moment,  and  immediately  after- 
wards of  the  single  word  "linen,"  might 
lead  you  to  suppose  a  difference  in  the 
original  expression-;.  But  there  is  no 
difference.  "  He  bought  the  sindon, 
and  took  him  down,  and  wrapped  him 
in  the  sindon."'  >St.  Luke  has  the  same 
word  in  reference  to  the  same  circum- 
stance. "  He  took  it  down,  wrapped  it 
in  linen,  and  laid  it  in  a  sepulchre  that 
was  hewn  in  stone."  But  we  believe 
there  is  no  other  place  in  which  the 
word  occurs  in  the  Greek  Testament; 
so  that,  excepting  the  instance  of  our 
text,  the  Evangelists  use  the  word  to 
express  only  the  particular  garment  in 
which  it  was  then  usual  to  enfold  the 
bodies  of  die  dead. 

Now  we  do  not  wish  you  to  conclude 
from  this,  that  the  word  was  never  em- 
ployed but  of  the  raiment  of  the  dead — 
for  such  was  not  the  fact;  but  that  it 
was  employed  to  denote  a  particular- 
kind  of  garment,  and  would  not  be  used 
of  any  covering-  which  a  man  might 
throw  over  him,  just  because  the  cover- 
ing happened  to  be  of  linen.  If  a  man, 
starting  from  his  sleep,  had  cast  a  sheet 
round  him,  he  would  not  on  that  account 
have  been  said  to  have  been  clad  in  the 
sindon.  In  fact,  the  sindon — and  it 
probably  took  its  name  from  the  city  of 
Sidon,  the  Sidonians  h  iving  invented  the 
art  of  weaving  this  kind  of  clothing — 
was  a  cloak,  made  of  linen,  which  was 
frequently  worn  in  Jerusalem,  and  es- 
pecially in  summer.  But  besides  serving 
as  a  covering  to  the  body,  the  sindon 
was  turned  to  a  religious  account.  It 
was  to  this  cloak  that  the  scrupulous 
observers  of  the  law  were  accustomed 
to   fasten    those  fringes  of  which    you 


6 


THE  YOUNG  MAN  IN  THE  LINEN  CLOTH. 


read  in  the  Book  of  Numbers.  "  Speak 
unto  the  children  of  Israel,  and  bid  them 
that  they  make  them  fringes  in  the  bor- 
ders of  their  garments  throughout  their 
generations,  and  that  they'put  upon  the 
fringe  of  the  borders  a  ribband  of  blue." 
With  this  sindon  also  it  was  that  the 
Jews  commonly  covered  their  heads 
when  they  prayed.  Hence,  whilst  any 
one  might  wear  the  sindon,  merely  as 
an  ordinary  garment,  others  might  wear 
it  by  way  of  religions  distinction;  that 
is,  they  might  wear  it  in  such  a  manner, 
or  with  such  peculiarity,  as  to  make  it 
indicative  of  special  strictness,  of  a  rigid 
adherence  to  the  law  of  God,  or  the  tra- 
ditions of  the  elders. 

And  this  latter  would  appear  to  have 
been  the  case  with  the  young  man  of 
whom  we  read  in  our  text.  It  is  ex- 
pressly noted  by  the  Evangelist,  that 
this  young  man  had  the  sindon  "cast 
about  his  naked  body."  He  had  noth- 
ing on  except  the  sindon.  And  this 
was  not  usual.  The  sindon  was  com- 
monly used  for  an  outer  garment — it 
was  worn,  that  is,  over  some  other.  But 
thei-e  were  many  amongst  the  Jews  who 
affected  great  austerity,  devotees  who 
attracted  attention  by  extreme  self-de- 
nial in  diet  and  dress.  Josephus  de- 
scribes himself  as  having  spent  much  of 
his  youth  in  the  austerities  enjoined  by 
different  sects,  and  mentions  his  living 
for  three  years  in  the  wilderness  with 
an  enthusiast,  who  would  wear  no  gar- 
ment but  what  was  made  of  the  leaves 
or  bark  of  trees,  and  would  eat  no  food 
but  what  grew  of  its  own  accord.  What 
then  seems  more  likely,  if  you  throw 
together  the  several  considerations  thus 
advanced,  than  that  the  young  man  who 
followed  Christ  was  a  devotee,  a  person 
that  assumed  a  peculiar  sanct'ty  of  de- 
portment, and  who,  therefore,  wore  only 
the  sindon,  whilst  others  used  a  double 
garment,  that  he  might  show  greater 
contempt  for  the  body,  and  more  rigor- 
ous habits  of  self-mortification  ( 

There  is  no  reason  for  supposing  him 
to  have  been  a  disciple  of  Christ;  in  all 
probability  he  was  not;  but  he  was  one 
of  those  Jews  who  practised  great  aus- 
terities, and  whose  dre  s  ..  is  meant  to 
indicate  a  claim  or  pretension  to  exira- 
ordinary  holiness  of  life.  Neither  is  it 
to  be  concluded  that  he  had  jusl  been 
roused  from  his  sleep,  and  had  hurried 
down  as   one  eager  to  know  the  cause 


of  the  tumult ;  it  is  as  likely  that  he  may 
have  been  with  the  crowd  from  the  first; 
yea,  he  may  have  been  as  inveterate  as 
any  of  the  rest  against  Christ:  for  he 
may  have  been  a  hypocrite  as  well  as  a 
devotee;  and  the  pretender  to  great 
holiness  will  be  sure  to  hate  the  actual 
possessor. 

But,  upon  this  supposition,  what  are 
we  to  say  to  the  conduct  of  the  multi- 
tude l  why  did  the  mob  fall  on  the  young 
man,  and  handle  him  so  roughly  t  We 
gave,  as  a  great  reason  for  rejecting  the 
ordinary  explanation  of  the  narrative, 
that  it  threw  no  light  on  the  series  of 
events  which  the  Evangelist  had  taken 
in  hand  to  relate,  that  it  left  us  with  no 
sufficient  account  why  he  interrupted 
the  sad  tale  of  the  sufferings  of  Christ. 
But  we  may  make  a  very  different  state- 
ment in  regard  to  the  present  supposi- 
tion, which  sets  before  us  the  young 
man  as  a  religious  devotee,  and  as  known 
to  be  such  by  the  garment  which  he 
wore.  From  the  manner  in  which  the 
multitude  treated  the  assumption  or  ap- 
pearance of  extraordinary  holiness,  we 
may  learn  something  of  the  temper  by 
which  they  were  actuated,  and  thus  be 
guided  to  right  conclusions  in  regard  to 
their  hatred  of  Christ. 

It  was,  we  believe,  a  religious  hatred, 
a  hatred,  we  mean,  on  religious  grounds, 
or  on  account  of  religion,  which  moved 
the  great  body  of  the  Jews  against  the 
blessed  Redeemer.  It  is  easy  o  speak 
of  the  political  feeling,  of  the  disap- 
pointment experienced  when  Christ 
gave  them  no  hope  of  setting  up  a  tem- 
poral kingdom,  and 'advancing  them  to 
sovereignly  over  their  ha  ghty  oppres- 
sors. And  no  doul  •  tica]  feel- 
ing had  its  play;  in  many  there  may 
have  been  a.<f>^  red  res  tlution,  thatthey 
would  rather  have  no  -  :i  than  one 
not  likely  to  fulfil  their  dream  of  na- 
tional supremacy.  For1  it  would  seem, 
though  it  be  an  awful  thing  to  say,  that 
Christ  was  rejected  by  many,  not  in 
disbelief  of  his  being  the  Messiah,  but 
in  spite  of  a  thorough  conviction  that 
He  was.  The  parable  of  the  wicked 
husbandmen  implies  as  much  as  this. 
■•  When  the  husbandman  saw  the  son, 
they  said  among  themselves,  This  is  the 
heir  :  come,  let  us  kill  him,  and  let  us 
eize  on  his  in  eritance."  They  dis- 
tinctly knew  the  son,  you  observe  ;  they 
do  not  act  under  any  mistake,  any  false 


THE  YOUNG  MAN  IN  THE  LINEN  CLOTH. 


impression,  as  to  his  person  ;  and  they 
deliberately  proceed  to  kill  him,  he- 
cause  he  is  the  son,  because  be  is  the 
heir,  and,  as  such,  in  the  way  of  their 
covetous  or  ambitious  designs.  But  in 
regard  of  the  great  mass  of  the  Jews, 
it  is  hardly  to  be  thought  that  it  was  the 
feeling  of  political  disappointment  which 
made  them  so  bitter  and  malignant 
against  Christ.  On  mere  political 
grounds  our  Lord,  after  all,  was  such  a 
leader  as  might  have  well  suited  the 
people.  He  could  heal  all  their  dis- 
eases, He  could  sustain  them  in  the 
wilderness  ;  He  had  the  mastery  over 
evil  spirits  ;  and  their  natural  impulse 
must  have  been,  not  to  reject  a  leader 
thus  endowed,  because  He  showed  dis- 
inclination to  assuming  the  depoitment 
of  a  king,  but  rather  to  make  Him  a 
king'  in  spite  of  Himself,  and  then  see 
whether  He  would  not  wield  his  powers 
in  advancing  them  to  greatness. 

But  the  galling  thing,  the  thing  most 
keenly  felt  by  all  classes  of  the  Jews, 
was  the  holiness  of  our  Lord  :  He  did 
not  suit  them  as  a  leader,  because  He 
would  make  no  truce  with  their  evil 
passions,  and  allow  no  indulgence  to 
their  lusts.  Had  He  made  greater  al- 
lowance for  human  frailty,  had  He  not 
so  expanded  the  morality  of  the  law  as 
to  make  it  denounce  the  adultery  of  a 
look,  and  the  murder  of  a  thought, 
many,  both  in  earlier  days  and  in  later, 
would  have  given  Him  their  adherence, 
and  have  become  his  disciples.  The 
main  cause  of  irritation  and  dislike  has 
all  along  been  the  same;  it  is  in  active 
play  now,  and  came  into  play  so  soon 
as  it  was  seen  that  Christ  displayed,  and 
demanded,  the  strictest  purity  of  action, 
and  word,  and  thought  ;  if  Christianity 
would  but  be  a  little  more  indulgent  to 
men's  vices,  it  would  quickly  carry  their 
votes. 

But  if  it  were  a  dislike  of  Christ,  as 
an  uncompromising  teacher  of  holiness, 
which  chiefly  moved,  or  actuated  the 
multitude,  we  may  naturally  look  to  find 
some  exhibition  of  the  fact  in  their  con- 
duct ;  not  indeed,  any  open  declaration 
— for  the  worst  will  hardly  confess  that 
it  is  goodness  which  they  hate — but 
some  ebullition  of  temper,  which  shall 
give  the  same  witness,  though  not 
equally  direct. 

And  this  we  have  in  the  narrative  of 
our  text.     A  young  man  is  seen  in  the 


crowd,  whose  dress  lays  claim  to  spe- 
cial strictness  and  sanctity  of  life.  Then 
forthwith  breaks  out  the  real  feeling  of 
the  crowd.  They  seize  the  occasion  of 
giving  vent  to  that  bitter  animosity  at 
holiness,  which  was  really,  if  not  con- 
fessedly, the  producing  cause  of  their 
persecution  of  Jesus.  They  jostle  this 
young  man  ;  they  lay  hold  on  him  ;  they 
strip  him  of  the  garment  which  passed 
as  a  sign  of  devotedness  to  religion ; 
and  thus  they  plainly  showed  by  what 
spirit  they  were  actuated,  or  put  be- 
yond doubt  the  motives  which  chiefly 
urged  them  to  their  murderous  design. 
Thirsting  for  Christ's  blood,  because 
He  had  reproved  vice,  and  required 
righteousness,  they  could  not  tolerate 
amongst  them  even  the  appearance  of 
superior  holiness.  The  young  man  pre- 
sented that  appearance,  and  therefore 
they  turned  upon  him,  as  hounds  upon 
their  prey,  and  forced  him  to  escape 
naked  for  his  life. 

And  we  cannot  forbear  from  pointing 
out  to  you  how  naturally,  on  this  suppo- 
sition, each  part  of  St.  Mark's  narrative 
follows  on  the  other.  On  being  seized 
b^  the  multitude,  "  Jesus  answered  and 
said  unto  them,  Are  ye  come  out  as 
against  a  thief,  with  swords  and  staves, 
to  take  me  ?  I  was  daily  with  you  in 
the  temple  teaching,  and  ye  took  me 
not ;  but  the  Scripture  must  be  fulfill- 
ed." What  effect  was  this  reference  to 
his  teaching  likely  to  produce  upon  the 
multitude  1  That  teaching  had  had  for 
its  main  object  the  inculcation  of  ri°ht- 
eousness  of  life,  the  abandonment  of 
every  form  and  working  of  iniquity. 
And  on  this  account,  as  we  now  sup- 
pose, the  teaching  had  been  distasteful, 
and  had  excited  the  animosity  of  the 
people.  Hence  an  allusion  to  the  teach- 
ing was  likely  to  irritate  the  mob  ;  and 
we  may  believe  them  to  have  been  all 
the  more  furious,  when  Christ  had  re- 
minded them  of  his  discourses  in  the 
temple.  Then  follow- the  words,  "  And 
they  all  forsook  him  and  fled."  The 
disciples,  seeing  the  irritated  state  of 
the  rabble,  were  afraid  to  remain  any 
longer  near  their  master,  and  betook 
themselves  to  flight.  Then  immediate- 
ly comes  the  account  in  our  text,  and 
how  naturally  it  comes,  in  what  close 
keeping  with  what  had  preceded.  The 
multitude,  infuriated  at  being  reminded 
of  what  Christ  had  taught  them,  would 


8 


THE  YOUNG  MAN  IN  THE  LINEN  CLOTH. 


have  fallen  on  the  disciples ;  but  the 
disciples  had  escaped  :  on  whom  tin m 
shall  the  mob  wreak  its  malice:  and 
spite'/  The  Evangelist  proceeds  to  tell 
us — and  nothing  could  more  show  the 
feeling,  the  temper  of  the  crowd;  no- 
thing could  more  distinctly  inform  us 
of  a  tact,  of  which  it  is  important  that 
we  be  assured,  that  the  main  producing 
cause  of  the  hatred  shown  to  Christ 
was  the  holiness  of  his  life,  and  the  pu- 
rity of  his  doctrine — the  Evangelist  pro- 
ceeds to  tell  us  that  there  was  a  young 
man  following  Christ,  whose  dress  in- 
dicated pretensions  to  extraordinary 
sanctity;  and  that  the  multitude 'seized 
on  this  young  man,  so  that  he  was  forced, 
by  their  violence,  to  leave  the  linen  cloth 
with  which  he  was  clad,  and  to  flee 
away  from  them  naked. 

Now  this  is  so  far  a  sufficient  expla- 
nation of  the  occurrence  before  us,  that 
it  makes  the  dress  of  the  young  man 
give  a  clue  to  his  character,  that  it  ac- 
counts for  the  treatment  which  he  re- 
ceived from  the  mob,  and  that  it  throws 
lirrht  on  the  reasons  which  moved  the 
Jews  to  the  rejection  of  Christ.  But, 
nevertheless,  we  believe  that  a  yet  deep- 
er meaning  attaches  to  the  incidents  in 
question ;  that  these  incidents  were 
symbolical  or  figurative  :  in  other  words, 
that  they  were  designed  to  shadow  forth 
the  facts  of  our  Redeemer's  final  tri- 
umph over  death. 

Let  us  refer  for  a  moment  to  the  or- 
dinances which  have  respect  to  the  great 
day  of  atonement,  that  day  of  especial 
solemnity  under  the  legal  dispensation, 
when  expiation  was  made  for  the  sins 
of  the  people.  On  that  day  the  pre- 
scription of  the  law  was,  that  the  high 
priest  should  take  two  goats,  and  pre- 
sent them  before  the  Lord  at  the  door 
of  the  tabernacle  of  the  congregation. 
One  of  these  goats  he  was  to  kill  as  a 
sin-offering,  to  bring  its  blood  within  the 
vail,  and  "  sprinkle  it  upon  the  mercy- 
seat,  and  before  the  mercy-seat."  I  Ipoc 
the  head  of  the  other  he  was  to  lay 
both  his  hands,  confessing  "  over  him 
all  the  iniquities  of  the  children  of  Is- 
rael, and  all  their  transgressions  in  all 
their  sins,  putting  them  upon  the  head  of 
the  goat  ;"  and  the  goat,  thus  burden- 
ed with  the  guiltiness  of  the  congre- 
gation, was  to  be  let  go  into  the  wilder- 
ness,   into    "  a    land  not  inhabited." 

There  is  no  debate  that  these  goats, 


taken  together,  constituted  a  type  of 
the  lieueemer.  So  vast  was  his  office, 
so  wondrous  his  work,  that  figures  had 
to  be  doubled,  ere  they  could  furnish 
any  thing  like  a  sufficient  representa- 
tion. In  the  goat  that  was  slain,  we 
have  the  Redeemer  presenting  Himself 
as  a  sin  offering  unto  Cod,  sheddinsrthe 
precious  blood  which  was  to  be  carried 
within  the  vail,  that  intercession  might 
be  made,  throughout  all  time,  for  the 
Church.  In  the  goat  that  was  sent 
alive  into  the  wilderness,  bearing  away 
all  the  iniquities  of  the  people,  we  have 
the  Redeemer  risen  from  the  grave,  and 
effecting  the  thorough  justification  of 
all  who  should  believe  on  his  name,  their 
sins  being  so  rem  wed,  or  borne  to  an 
uninhabited  land,  that,  though  searched 
for,  they  may  not  be  found.  It  is  evi- 
dent that  one  goat  would  not  have  been 
an  adequate  type,  seeing  that  the  Mes- 
siah had  to  be  represented,  not  only  as 
"  delivered  for  our  offences,"  but  as 
"  raised  again  for  our  justification."  But 
the  two  goats  furnished  a  sufficient  and 
accurate  figure;  the  one  having  heen 
significant  of  our  Lord  as  offered  on 
the  cross,  the  other  as  returning  from 
the  grave  :  so  that,  together,  they  shad- 
owed out  the  sacrifice  presented,  the 
acceptance  of.  the  sacrifice,  and  its  jrre- 
valence  as  a  propitiation  for  the  sins  of 
the  world. 

But  now  was  it  not  in  a  measure  to 
be  expected,  that,  when  the  time  came 
which  the  great  day  of  atonement  had 
all  along  prefigured,  there  would  be 
something  to  remind  men  of  the  double 
type  1  something,  at  least,  to  assure  the 
devout  Jew,  who  should  look  sorrow- 
ingly  upon  Christ  led  away  as  the  goat 
to  the  slaughter,  that  he  would  yet  be- 
hold in  him  the  live  goat,  escaping  to  a 
far  land,  and  bearing  into  forgetfulness 
the  sins  of  the  people  {  And  with  what 
precision  was  the  double  type  embodi- 
ed, if  you  observe  that  the  crowd,  with 
J  udas  at  their  head,  lay  hold  not  only 
upon  Jesus,  but  on  the  young  man  who 
followed  him,  clothed  in  tin;  sindon,  the 
linen  garment  that  was  usually  wrapped 
round  the  dead!  We  have  shown  you, 
that,  except  in  describing  the  dress  of 
this  young  man,  the  Evangelists  no- 
where mention  the  sindon  'but  where 
they  have  to  speak  of  the  raiment  in 
which  Christ  was  consigned  to  the 
grave.     This  is  surely  very  remarkable : 


THE  YOUNG  MAN  IN  THE  LINEN  CLOTH. 


it  is  as  though  to  force  us  to  connect  in 
some  way  the  appearance,  the  mysteri- 
ous appearance,  of  the  young-  man  so 
strangely  attired,  with  the  burial  of 
Christ  ;  to  compel  us  to  assign  it  a  pro- 
phetic or  typical  character,  in  place  of 
passing  it  over  as  an  incident  from  which 
little  can  be  learned.  As  Christ  is  led 
to  trial,  and,  therefore,  virtually,  to  cru- 
cifixion. He  is  followed  by  a  young 
man  having  nothing  on  his  naked  body 
but  the  vesture  in  which,  after  having 
been  crucified,  Christ  would  be  laid  by 
Joseph  in  the  tomb.  The  same  parties 
who  have  seized  Christ,  lay  hold  on  this 
young  man,  and  try  to  detain  him.  But 
though  he  is  but  one  against  a  multitude, 
he  escapes  from  their  hands — he  es- 
capes ;  but  he  escapes  naked,  leaving 
the  grave-clothes  behind  him.  Is  not 
this  Christ,  who,  when  He  had  put  on 
the  grave-clothes,  was  not  to  be  kept  in 
the  grave  by  all  the  malice  and  power 
of  His  enemies ;  but  who  sprang  from 
the  grasp  of  the  tomb,  leaving  in  it  the 
raiment  in  which  He  had  been  bound 
up  for  burial ! 

So  then,  just  as,  on  the  great  day  of 
atonement,  in  looking  at  the  two  goats 
held  by  the  high  priest,  you  looked  on 
an  accurate  exhibition  of  the  two  grand 
facts,  that  Christ  died  for  our  sins,  and 
that  he  rose  for  our  justification  ;  so,  in 
now  looking  upon  Jesus  led  to  the 
slaughter,  and  at  the  same  moment  upon 
the  young  man  fleeing  away  naked,  you 
may  be  said  to  take  in  at  one  glance,  the 
tragedy  of  the  crucifixion,  and  the  tri- 
umph of  the  resurrection.  The  young 
man  is  brought  upon  the  scene  clothed 
as  an  inhabitant  of  the  grave,  that  there 
might  be  a  filling  up  of  the  picture 
which  would  otherwise  have  presented 
nothing  but  the  dark  lines  of  death — a 
filling  it  up  with  the  wondrous  exhibi- 
tion of  that  very  person,  who  was  now 
being  hurried  to  an  ignominious  end, 
breaking  loose  from  the  hold  even  of 
the  sepulchre  itself,  leaving  evidence 
behind,  in  "the  linen  clothes  laid  by 
themselves,"  of  his  having  spoiled  death 
of  its  sting,  and  the  grave  of  its  victory. 
I  do  not  know  how,  to  a  mind  fraught 
with  the  typical  instruction  of  the  great 
day  of  atonement,  there  coidd  have  been 
more  beautiful  or  appropriate  manifes- 
tations of  the  truth,  that  Christ  would 
quickly  rise,  and,  in  rising,  perfect  the 
justification  of  his  Church.     I  know  not 


whether  there  were  any  who  decipher- 
ed, and  made  use  of  the  manifestation. 
But  it  is  easy  to  imagine,  and  instruc- 
tive to  suppose,  that  some  studied  the 
incidents,  and  drew  from  them  the  pur- 
posed   intelligence.       There  may  have 
been  in  the  crowd  a  devout  and  aged 
Jew,  like  Simeon,  who  had  long  been 
diligent  in  the  services  of  the  Temple, 
searching  in  those  services  for  notices 
of  the  scheme  of  redemption,  for  types 
or  figures  of  the  deliverance  promised, 
from  the  earliest  time,  to  the  fallen  race 
of  men.     And  such  a  Jew  would  natu- 
rally have  given  his  special  study  to  the 
solemnities  of  the  great  day  of  atone- 
ment.      These  solemnities,  more  than 
any  other,  would  have  made  pass  before 
him,  in  fearful  procession,  the  dark,  yet 
glorious,  things  of  the  Messiah's  endur- 
ances  and  achievements.     And  now  he 
holds  with  himself  an  engrossing  debate, 
as     to    whether    The    being,   who    had 
wrought  so  many  wonders,  but  is   now 
in  the  hands  of  bloodthirsty  persecutors, 
can  indeed  be  the  Clmst  so  long,  and  so 
ardently  expected.       There  is  nothing 
in  his  being  led  to  the  slaughter,  to  per- 
suade him  that  He  cannot  be  the  Christ : 
he  remembei's  the  slaying  of  the  goat  for 
a    sin-offering,  and    feels    that  without 
shedding  of  blood  can  be  no  remission. 
But  then  he  also  remembers,  that  side 
by  side  with  the  goat  for  a  sin-offering, 
used    to  stand  a  goat  on  which    death 
might  not  pass — the  typical  exhibition 
thus  cheering  the  worshipper  with  the 
certainty  that  the  sin-offering  would  suf- 
fice, that  the  victim,  substituted  in  his 
stead,  would  re-appear  after  death,  and 
prevail,  in  the  largest  sense,  to  the  re- 
moving all  his   guilt.      O  for  something 
of  the  like  double  representation,  if  this 
indeed  be  the  victim  appointed  of  God 
for  the  redemption  of  the   world  !     O 
for  something  to  correspond  to  the  goat 
escaping  as  well  as  to  the  goat  dying  ! 
The    wish    is    granted.      Close    by  the 
Lord  Jesus,  clad  in  raiment  which  might 
seem    to  indicate  an   inhabitant  of  the 
grave,  stands  a  young  man,  fixing  atten- 
tion by  the  strangeness  of  his  attire.    As 
the  devout    Jew  gazes   on   this   figure, 
hardly   knowing  whether  it  belong   to 
the  living  or  the  dead,  he  sees  him  seiz- 
ed by  the  very  parties  who  are  leading 
away  Christ.       Ah,   the  two  goats   are 
now  in  the  hands  of  the  sacrificers,  but 
will    neither    escape  1  will    the   typical 
2 


10 


THE  YOUNG  MAN  IN   THE  LINEN  CLOTH. 


representation  not  find  itself  verified  ? 
It  is  a  moment  of  intense  anxiety.  But 
all  doubt  should  disappear,  there  should 
be  nothing  but  conviction  that  Jesus, 
though  He  must  die,  would  rise  from 
the  dead,  rise  as  a  conqueror,  rise  as  a 
justifier,  when  the  seeming  inhabitant  of 
the  tomb  bursts  from  those  that  would 
detain  him,  leaves  the  liuen  cloth,  and 
flees  away  naked. 

And  thus  the  incident  which  has  en- 
gaged our  attention,  is  made  to  fill  an 
important  place  as  symbolical,  or  pro- 
phetic, of  Christ's  triumph  over  his  en- 
emies. It  comes  in  at  the  very  moment 
wh^ii  it  must  have  been  most  needed, 
when  faith  was  put  to  its.  sorest  trial, 
the  Redeemer  appearing  to  have  fallen 
finally  into  the  hands  of  the  powers  of 
darkness.  It  was,  as  we  have  seen, 
most  strikingly  significative  of  Christ's 
return  from  the  "rave — significative, 
moreover,  through  an  exactness  of  cor- 
respondence with  the  types  of  the  law  : 
so  that  it  addressed  itself  especially  to 
those,  who,  conversant  with  the  figures 
of  the  Mosaic  dispensation,  justly  looked 
to  find  answerable  realities  in  the  actions 
and  endurances  of  the  promised  Messiah. 
I  look  on  this  spectre-like  figure,  this 
scarcely  earthly  form  habited  in  grave- 
clothes,  as  I  would  upon  a  prophet,  mys- 
teriously raised  up  to  utter  a  prediction, 
at  the  moment  when  the  prediction  was 
most  needed,  and  in  the  language  which 
would  be  best  understood  by  the  hear- 
ers ;  a  prediction  of  the  resurrection  of 
Jesus;  a  prediction,  therefore,  whose 
tenor  was  most  nicely  adapted  to  cheer 
his  dispirited  followers,  and  which,  as 
being  woven  out  of  the  symbols  of  the 
law,  could  hardly  fail  to  carry  with  it 
its  interpretation  to  those  whom  it  ad- 
dressed. 

And  on  this  view  of  the  occurrence, 
there  is  something,  we  think,  very  mem- 
orable, in  the  order  already  mentioned, 
in  which  the  Evangelist  has  catalogued 
events.  It  is  immediately  after  the 
statement,  "and  they  all  forsook  him 
and  fled,"  that  St.  Mark  gives  the  ac- 
count of  the  young  man's  seizure  and 
escape.  Why  had  the  disciples  thus 
abandoned  and  lied  from  their  Master, 
except  thai  his  apprehension  by  his  en- 
emies, and  the  apparent  certainty  of  his 
being  put  to  death,  seemed  to  them  de- 
structive of  all  hope  of  his  working  out 
their  deliverance,  and  proving  Himself 


the  Messiah  that  was  to  reign  over  Is- 
rael '.  They  took  fright  at  the  first  out- 
break of  violence,  so  soon  as  there  was 
any  symptom  of  Christ's  yielding  to  the 
wicked  :  whereas  if  they  would  but 
manfully  have  stood  their  ground  a  little 
while,  they  might  have  been  strengthen- 
ed by  a  revelation  from  above,  and  have 
learned  to  brave  the  ignominy  of  a  mo- 
ment's defeat,  in  the  certainty  of  an  ever- 
lasting triumph.  For  no  sooner  had 
they  yielded  to  unbelief  and  cowardice, 
and  forsaken  their  Lord,  than  there  hap- 
pened that  significative  occurrence  on 
which  we  have  been  speaking,  and 
which  portrayed  so  powerfully,  in  fig- 
ures corresponding  to  those  of  the  law, 
that  He  who  died  for  their  offences  would 
rise  for  their  justification.  They  just 
missed,  you  see,  the  delivery  of  a  most 
expressive  and  intelligible  prophecy, 
the  effect  of  which  could  hardly  fail  to 
have  been  the  reassuring  of  their  minds, 
and  the  arming  them  with  confidence 
and  hope  for  that  season  of  affliction 
through  which  they  had  to  pass.  Oh, 
how  often  with  ourselves  may  there  be 
something  of  the  like  missing,  as  by  a 
moment  or  a  hairbreadth,  of  a  gracious 
communication  which  would  scatter  our 
doubts,  disperse  our  fears,  and  fill  us 
with  joyful  expectation.  We  are  so  im- 
patient, so  little  disposed  to  "wait  upon 
the  Lord,"  so  ready  to  take  to  flight  the 
instant  an  enemy  conies  in  view,  that 
often,  very  often  it  may  be,  we  yield  to 
despair,  and  give  up  all  for  lost,  exactly 
when  a  little  perseverance  would  have 
put  us  in  possession  of  such  manifesta- 
tions of  God's  purpose  as  could  hardly 
have  failed  to  nerve  for  conflict,  or 
strengthen  for  endurance.  We  forsake 
Christ,  because  He  is  in  the  hands  of  his 
enemies  ;  when,  if  we  would  but  hold 
by  Him  a  while  longer,  God  would  show 
us  Christ  triumphing,  leaving  nothing 
but  the  linen-cloth  in  the  grasp  of  his 
enemies,  evidence  of  their  utter  defeat, 
and  his  glorious  escape. 

Let  us  take  this  le-son  from  the  sym- 
bolical occurrence  which  has  been  under 
review — a  lesion  as  to  perseverance  in 
duty,  though  in  the  face  of  dangers  and 
difficulties.  The  Supplies  of  (  rod's  i;race 
are  to  be  expected  in  the  way  of  God's 
commands.  The  duty  of  the  disciples 
was  to  have  kepi  close  to  Christ  :  had 
they  done  this,  God, as  we  now  see,  had 
prepared    for  them  a  typical  revelation, 


THE  FIRE  ON  THE  SHORE. 


11 


most  nicely  adapted  to  their  confirmation 
;ind  comfort  :  whereas,  by  shrinking 
from  Christ,  they  lost  the  disclosure. 
and  were  punished  by  being  left  in  dark- 
ness send  dismay.  In  religion,  as  in  war, 
there  is  nothing  gained  by  cowardice  : 
he  who  turns  his  back  upon  the  enemy, 
and  rlees  from  the  field,  may  indeed 
seem  to  have  his  life  as  his  reward  ;  but 
he  might  perhaps  have  had  both  his  life 
and  his  honor  had  he  stood  to  his  colors  ; 
and,  unable  ever  after  to  lift  up  his  head, 
he  had  better  have  laid  it  at  once  amongst 
the  heaps  of  the  slain. 

And  in  religion,  if  not  in  war,  there 
is  certainty,  that  if  we  persevere,  we 
shall  meet  succors  ;  if  we  retreat,  retreat 
on  worse  dangers  than  we  seek  to  avoid. 


Persevere  then  in  every  duty  without 
regard  to  the  discouragement :  the  next 
onward  step  may  bring  you  into  com- 
parative light  ;  the  least  backward  is 
sure  to  land  you  in  thicker  darkness. 
Ah,  learn  from  the  disciples  :  hastily  for- 
saking Chi-isf,  they  fled  to  mourn  over 
disappointed  hopes,  over  a  leader  in 
whom  they  could  no  longer  trust,  be- 
cause He  was  Himself  the  prey  of  the 
wicked,  "  a  very  scorn  and  outcast  :  " 
but,  had  they  kept  firmly  for  a  few  mo- 
ments longer  at  his  side,  they  might  have 
been  confident,  even  whilst  He  hung  on 
the  cross,  assured  of  finding  his  grave 
deserted,  but  with  the  linen  cloth  in  it 
to  prove  that  He  was  risen. 


SERMON    II. 


THE  FTRE  ON  THE  SHORE. 


"  As  soon  then  as  they  were  come  to  land,  they  saw  a  fire  of  coals  there,  and  fish  laid  thereon  and   bread.      Jesus 
saith  unto  them,  Bring  of  the  fish  which  ye  have  now  caught." — St.  John,  xxi.  9,  10. 


These  words  form  part  of  the  account 
of  what  St.  John  speaks  of  as  Christ's 
third  manifestation  of  Himself  "  to  his 
disciples  after  that  he  was  risen  from 
the  dead."  The  most  careless  reader, 
perhaps,  can  hardly  peruse  the  words, 
without  feeling  that  thez-e  is  something 
strange  and  mysterious  in  what  they 
state.  How  came  this  fire  of  coals  on 
this  lonely  shore  1  Who  kindled  it  1 
Who  laid  out  the  provision,  the  fish,  and 
the  bread  I  If,  as  we  can  scarcely  doubt, 
there  were  something  symbolical  or  sig- 
nificative, in  what  thus  met  the  disciples' 
view  so  soon  as  they  were  come  to  land, 
what  are  the  truths,  what  the  lessons, 
that  were  figuratively  conveyed  ( 

We  have  a  great  and  difficult  subject 
of  discourse  before  us.  We  must  pro- 
ceed   with    caution,  we  must    proceed 


with  prayer  :  the  inspired  historian  adds 
no  explanation  ;  he  gives  nothing  but 
the  facts  ;  but  the  facts  would  not  have 
been  written,  except  for  our  admonition 
and  instruction  :  we  are,  therefore,  to 
study  them  with  all  care,  but  at  the  same 
time,  in  simple  dependence  on  the  teach- 
ing of  the  Holy  Spirit,  through  which 
alone  can  the  dark  things  of  Scripture 
be  made  clear,  and  the  intricate  plain. 

Let  us  begin  with  looking  attentively 
at  the  foregoing  part',  of  the  narrative  : 
these  may  greatly  assist  to  a  right  un- 
derstanding of  the  facts  upon  which  we 
are  specially  to  comment. 

The  chapter  before  us  opens  with  the 
mention  of  the  assembling  of  seven  of 
our  Lord's  disciples  on  the  coast  of  the 
Sea  of  Tiberias.  The  solemn  interview 
which  Christ  had  promised  to  grant  to 


12 


THE  FIRE  ON  THE   SHORE. 


his  followers  on  the  mountain  in  Galilee 
appears  not  to  have  yet  taken  place  ; 
we  may  suppose  that  the  disciples  were 
waiting  for  the  commission  which  they 
were  then  to  receive  :  in  the  mean  time 
they  were  at  liberty,  and,  perhaps,  even 
necessitated  by  want,  to  pursue  their 
original  occupations.  Under  these  cir- 
cumstances, St.  Peter  tells  the  other  dis- 
ci pies  of  his  intention  of  going  a-fishing. 
They  agree  to  accompany  him  :  the  se- 
ven embark  together,  and  spend  the 
night  in  fruitless  toil,  for  they  caught 
nothing.  But  when  the  morning  came, 
there  stood  on  the  shore,  one,  at  least, 
whom  the  disciples  did  not  recognize, 
though  it  was  none  other  than  the  risen 
Christ  Himself.  The  boat  being  at  no 
great  distance  from  the  shore,  Christ 
could  speak  to  the  disciples  ;  and  He 
accordingly  inquired  of  them  whether 
they  had  any  meat  ]  On  their  answer- 
ing, No,  He  directed  them  to  cast  the 
net  on  the  right  side  of  the  ship,  and  as- 
sured them  they  should  find. 

Though  the  disciples  did  not  recog- 
nize their  Master,  there  must  have  been 
something  in  the  air  and  appearance  of 
the  speaker,  which  commanded  their  at- 
tention, and,  perhaps,  caused  them  to 
suspect  who  it  was  ;  otherwise  they 
would  hardly  have  been  prompt  to  obey 
a  command  which,  after  toiling  all  night 
m  vain,  they  might  have  been  disposed 
to  consider  as  uttered  either  in  hnio- 
ranee  or  presumption.  They  however 
cast  the  net  without  hesitation,  and  im- 
mediately enclosed  so  great  a  multitude 
of  fishes,  that  they  were  unable  to  draw 
it.  This  miracle — for  they  could  scarce- 
ly fail  at  once  to  regard  as  miraculous, 
so  sudden  and  large  a  draught  of  fishes, 
occurring  at  the  moment  when  they 
were  about  to  give  up  in  despair — sug- 
gested that  the  stranger  on  the  shore 
must  be  Jesus  Himself;  the  miracle,  in- 
dependently of  its  wonderfulness,  was 
so  similar  in  its  nature  and  circumstan- 
ces to  that  which  had  preceded  the 
calling  of  Peter,  that  the  dullest  must 
have  entertained  a  suspicion,  if  not  a 
conviction,  of  the  presence  of  the  Sa- 
vior. 

But  it  was  the  disciple  whom  Jesus 
loved — for  affection  is  quicksighted — 
who  first  satisfied  himself  as  to  its  being 
the  Lord;  and  on  his  telling  this  to  Pe- 
ter,  that  impetuous*  but  ardent  disciple 
threw  himself  into  the  sea,  that  he  might 


hasten  to  the  Master  whom  he  had  late- 
ly so  fiercely  denied,  but  to  whom  he 
now  longed  to  give  proof  of  a  devotcd- 
ness  increased  by  the  remembrance  of 
his  fall,  and  the  graciousness  of  his  for- 
giveness. The  other  disciples,  acting 
with  less  vehemence,  but  equally  desir- 
ing to  be  with  their  Lord,  proceeded  to- 
wards the  land  in  their  ship,  dragging 
with  them  the  net  and  its  ponderous  en- 
closure. And  then  it  was,  on  their  all 
reaching  the  shore — perhaps  much  at 
the  same  moment ;  for  Peter,  in  his  im- 
petuousness,  may  not  have  outstripped 
his  brethren  who  took  a  more  ordinary 
way  of  approaching  their  Lord — then  it 
was  that  they  found  what  is  described 
in  the  text,  the  fire  of  coals,  and  provi- 
sion for  a  repast. 

The  fire  could  hardly  have  been  kin- 
dled by  themselves  over-night;  they  had 
been  absent  many  hours,  and  what  they 
had  lighted  would  have  been  extinguish- 
ed. They  appear,  moreover,  to  have 
gone  a-fishing  from  being  in  want  of  pro- 
vision ;  at  all  events,  they  would  hardly 
have  left  fish  behind  them  on  the  shore  ; 
or,  if  they  had,  the  fish  which  now  stood 
ready  for  their  meal  could  not  have  been 
that  which  their  own  hands  had  placed 
on  the  coals  :  the  supposition  is  prepos- 
terous, that  they  had  lighted  the  fire  be- 
fore embarking,  and  laid  fish  upon  it  to 
cook  whilst  they  were  absent  on  the  sea. 

Besides,  there  is  something  peculiar 
in  the  way  in  which  St.  John  mentions 
the  fire  and  the  provision.  He  is  par- 
ticular in  noting  that  it  was  "  as  soon  as 
they  were  come  to  laud  "  that  the  dis- 
ciples saw  this  fire  of  coals.  It  was  the 
first  object  which  met  their  eye  on  land- 
ing. There  would  have  been  nothing  to 
mention,  had  this  fire  been  only  what 
they  had  themselves  kindled  over-night. 
And  we  may  believe  that  the  Evangelist 
is  so  careful  in  pointing  out  that  the  fire 
was  seen  at  the  instant  of  reaching  the 
shoi'e,  on  purpose  to  make  us  under- 
stand that  the  disciples  did  not  light  it 
after  they  landed,  and  that  neither  did 
they  stir  tip  the  embers  of  the  day  before. 
You  might  have  expected  that  the  dis- 
ciples would  have  been  so  engrossed 
with  looking  at  their  risen  Master  as  to 
have  had  no  eye  for  any  other  object. 
Neither  would  they  have  had,  we  may 
venture  to  believe,  unless  fur  something 
startling  and  mysterious.  But  that 
strange  lire,  kindled,  as  they  may  have 


THE  FIRE  ON  THE   SHORE. 


13 


felt,  by  invisible  hands,  seems  to  have 
drawn  off  their  attention  even  from 
Christ":  it  fixed  their  gaze  as  tliey  set 
foot  upon  the  shore,  ami,  perhaps,  like 
the  burning-bush  with  Moses,  helped  to 
persuade  them  of  the  actual  presence  of 
Divinity. 

And  now  you  will  observe,  that, 
though  there  was  all  the  material  for  a 
repast — angels,  or  the  Redeemer  Him- 
self, having  in  their  absence  made  ready 
the  fish  and  the  bread — Christ  does  not 
forthwith  invite  them  to  dine,  but  first  of 
all — this  is  a  very  significant  circum- 
stance— directs  them  to  bring  of  the  fish 
which  they  had  caught.  Neither  was 
tins  direction  complied  with  in  haste,  a 
hand  being  thrust  into  the  net,  and  some 
of  the  rich  store  transferred  to  the  coals  ; 
there  appears,  on  the  contrary,  to  have 
been  great  deliberation  :  the  net  was 
drawn  to  land  ;  the  fish  were  counted, 
and  found  to  be  in  number  one  hundred 
and  fifty  and  three;  and  it  was  not  till 
this  had  been  done,  and  then,  as  we  may 
conjecture,  some  of  the  newly-caught 
fish  had  been  dressed,  in  addition  to 
those  already  prepared,  that  our  Lord 
bade  his  disciples  partake  of  the  meal 
provided  for  them  by  his  supernatural 
power. 

Such  arc  the  main  circumstances  of 
the  narrative.  You  cannot  fail  to  be 
impressed  with  the  sense  as  of  some- 
thing strange  and  unearthly.  You  feel 
that,  like  Moses  in  Horeb,  you  must  put 
off  the  shoes  from  your  feet,  ere  you  pre- 
sume to  approach  the  mysterious  fire 
which  seems  to  have  been  kindled  in  a 
moment ;  for  the  disciples  saw  it  not  till 
they  had  set  foot  upon  the  shore,  though 
you  might  have  expected  it  to  have  been 
visible  during  the  night ;  come  then,  and 
let  it  be  with  all  awe  and  humility,  but 
nevertheless  in  the  hope  of  instruction 
and  comfort,  that  we  gather  with  the 
disciples  round  this  fire  of  coals,  and  en- 
deavor to  decipher  the  symbolical  les- 
sons which  the  whole  transaction  may 
have  been  designed  to  convey. 

Now  there  are  one  or  two  supposi- 
tions which  will  present  themselves  to  a 
thoughtful  mind,  and  which  deserve  a 
passing  notice,  though  they  may  be  evi- 
dently incommensurate  with  the  facts 
of  the  case.  It  may  readily  occur  to  you 
as  one  explanation  of  the  kindled  fire, 
and  prepared  repast,  that  Christ  had 
been  thinking  kindly  of  his  wearied  and 


hungry  disciples ;  that,  knowing  how 
they  had  spent  the  night,  and  how  much 
they  would  be  in  need  of  refreshment, 
He  had  graciously  employed  his  power 
in  making  ready  a  meal,  where,  had 
they  been  left  to  themselves,  they  would 
have  been  utterly  destitute.  We  need 
not  exclude  this  explanation.  We  may 
believe  that  it  was  part  of  the  purpose 
of  our  gracious  and  compassionate  Lord, 
to  supply  the  bodily  wants  of  his  fol- 
lowers, to  provide  lire  to  warm  them, 
and  food  to  satisfy  them.  But  there  is 
too  much  reason  for  regarding  the  mi- 
raculous  draught  of  fishes,  like  every 
other  miracle,  as  designed  to  serve  for  a 
parable,  to  allow  of  our  being  content 
with  an  interpretation  of  the  text  which 
woidd  strip  it  of  all  figure,  and  reduce 
it  into  a  mere  evidence  of  the  tender 
consideration  of  Chiast  for  his  people. 

There  is  another  explanation  which 
mav  suggest  itself,  and  which  makes  the 
whole  transaction  refer  especially  to  St. 
Peter.  It  would  certainly  seem  as  if 
one  great  object  of  this  manifestation  of 
Christ,  had  been  the  publicly  restoring 
to  the  Apostleship  the  disciple  who  had 
so  shamefully  denied  Him,  but  whose 
repentance  had  been  as  bitter  as  his  of- 
fence had  been  flagrant.  You  will  re- 
member, that,  so  soon  as  the  dinner  was 
over,  Christ  addressed  Peter  with  the 
question,  "  Simon,  son  of  Jonas,  lovest 
thou  me,  more  than  these  .'  "  And  when 
Peter  had  replied,  "  Yea,  Lord,  thou 
knowest  that  1  love  thee,"  Christ  said 
unto  him,  "  Feed  my  lambs."  This 
was,  as  it  were,  the  reinvesting  Peter 
with  the  pastoral  office,  of  which  he 
might  justly  be  thought  to  have  stripped 
himself,  when  he  basely,  and  with  an 
oath,  declared  that  he  belonged  not  to 
Christ.  But  Peter  denied  his  Master 
thrice  ;  and  thrice  did  Christ  now  pro- 
pose the  same  question  ;  and,  receiving 
the  same  answer,  thrice  did  He  deliver 
the  same  charge  of  feeding  the  flock.  As 
if  Peter  had  thrice  lost  the  Apostleship, 
by  thrice  denying  Christ,  Christ  thrice 
restored  to  him  the  office,  that  he  him- 
self, and  the  other  Apostles,  might  have 
no  doubt  as  to  his  having  been  forgiven, 
and,  as  it  were,  reordained.  And  when 
our  Lord  had  thus  publicly  reinvested 
Peter  with  the  Apostleship,  he  pro- 
ceeded to  prophesy  "by  what  death  he 
should  glorify  God  ;  "  so  that  almost  the 
whole  of  this  interview,  as  far  as  it  is 


14 


THE  FIRE  ON  THE  SHORE. 


recorded  by  the  Evangelist,  was  occu- 
pied with  matters  personal  to  St.  Peter, 
as  though  it  had  been  on  his  account,  or 
for  his  sake,  that  Christ  showed  Him- 
self the  third  time  to  his  disciples. 

But  how  does  the  mode,  or  character 
of  the  manifestation  agree  with  the  sup- 
position of  its  having  been  granted  with 
an  especial  view  to  St.  Peter,  to  his 
public  reinvestment  with  the  pastoral 
office  l  Most  accurately ;  for  when  Si- 
mon Peter  was  first  called  by  Christ, 
called  that  is, — for  there  had  been  pre- 
vious intercourse, — to  forsake  his  world- 
ly occupation,  and  devote  himself  to  the 
preaching  of  the  Gospel,  Christ  wrought, 
as  you  will  remember,  a  miracle  precise- 
ly similar,  in  its  nature  and  circumstan- 
ces, to  that  recorded  in  the  narrative 
which  we  have  under  review.  Simon 
Peter,  and  his  partners,  were  then  in  a 
ship  on  the  sea  of  Gennesareth.  They 
had  then  toiled  all  night,  and  taken  no 
fish.  At  the  bidding  of  Christ,  they  then 
also  let  down  the  net ;  and  the  result  then 
also  was,  that  immediately  "  they  en- 
closed a  great  multitude  of  fishes."  And 
then  it  was  that,  Simon  Peter  being 
overcome  by  the  miracle,  Christ  separa- 
ted him  for  the  office,  to  which  he  af- 
terwards gave  a  more  solemn  appoint- 
ment, saying,  "  Fear  not ;  from  hence- 
forth thou  shalt  catch  men." 

So  that  there  could  not  well  be  a 
more  accurate  correspondence  than  be- 
tween the  mode  in  which  Christ  pre- 
pai-cd  for  Peter's  first  ordination,  and 
that  in  which  he  made  way  for  the  re- 
ordainina:  him  after  his  calamitous  fall. 
It  can  hardly  be  imagined  but  that  the 
similarity  of  the  miracle  must  have 
painfully  forced  itself  on  the  attention 
of  St.  Peter,  bringing  back  to  the  mind 
of  the  penitent  disciple  the  happy  oc- 
casion on  which  he  had  forsaken  all  that 
he  might  follow  our  Lord,  and  perhaps 
suggesting  how  deplorably  he  had  since 
altered  his  position,  through  overween- 
ing confidence  in  his  own  stedfastuess 
and  courage. 

But  whilst  there  was  thus  what  we 
might  call  a  repetition  of  the  whole 
matter  of  Peter's  ordination,  what  had 
"  the  firo  of  coals  "  to  do  with  the  trans- 
action 'I  It  is  this  of  which  we  chiefly 
seek  the  purport  or  design  ;  and  it  does 
not  appear  how  it  served,  or  contribu- 
ted, to  the  supposed  object  of  this  third 
manifestation  of  Christ. 


But  we  consider  that  Christ  caused  a 
miraculous  draught  of  fishes,  to  remind 
Peter  how  He  had  called  him  original- 
ly,  and  to  produce   in  him   a  sorrowing 
remembrance  of  his  grievous  apostasy. 
Christ  will  not  solemnly  reinvest   Peter 
with    the    pastoral    office,    till    He  has 
made  him    again    and    deeply    feel  his 
heinous    offence.      And  the  miracle  of 
the  draught  of  fishes  will   have  caused 
Peter  much  compunction  and  bitterness 
of  soul — reminding  him  of  what  Christ 
had  done  for  him,  it  must  have  remind- 
ed him  also,  and  that  too  like  the  pierc- 
ings of  a  sword,  of  his  ingratitude  and 
cowardice.      But  the    sad    facts  of  his 
denial    of  his    Lord  require    to   be  yet 
more  vividly  brought  back  to  his  mind, 
that  he  may,  through  the  painful  recol- 
lections, be  yet  better    fitted    for  rein- 
statement in  his  office.     And  might  not 
"  the  fire  of  coals  "  help  in  a  measure  to 
recal  the  painful  act  of  apostasy  '?     Thus 
much  is  certain,  that  the  expression,  "  a 
fire  of  coals,"  occurs  only  in  one  other 
place  in  the  New  Testament,  as  though 
this  were  not  the  ordinary  so  it  of  fire, 
and  the  Evangelist  wished  especially  to 
mark  of  what  it  was  made.     And  it  is 
the    same    Evangelist,    St.    John,   who 
uses  the  word  on  the  two  occasions  ;   St. 
John,  whose  great  object  in  writing  his 
Gospel  appears  to  have  been  to  supply 
the  omissions  of  the  preceding  histori- 
ans.    But  what  is  the  other  occasion  on 
which    St.  John    mentions    "  a    fire    of 
coals  'I  "     It  is  when  he  is  relating  what 
took  place   in  the   palace    of  the  high 
priest,  after  Jesus  had  been  apprehend- 
ed, and  brought  before  Caiaphas.  "And 
the    servants    and  officers   stood  there, 
who  had  made  a  fire  of  coals  (for  it  was 
cold)  ;   and    they   warmed    themselves : 
and  Peter  stood  with  them,  and  warmed 
himself." 

It  was,  then,  whilst  he  stood  by  this 
"fire  of  coals,"  that  Peter  denied  his 
blessed  Lord  and  Master.  It  was 
whilst  he  stood  by  this  fire  of  coals  that 
Christ  threw  on  him  that  look  which 
painting  never  caught,  and  which,  fol- 
lowing on  the  crowing  of  the  cock, 
caused  him  to  go  forth  and  weep  bit- 
terly. Was  not,  then,  "  afire  of  coals," 
found  mysteriously  kindled  by  unknown 
hands  on  the  shores  of  the  lake,  likely 
to  recall  to  Peter  the  circumstances  of 
his  apostasy  1  It  were  hard  to  believe, 
that,  painfully  affected  as  he  must  al- 


THE  FIRE  ON  THE  SHORE. 


15 


ready  have  been  by  the  miracle  of  the 
fishes,  he  could  have  looked  on  that 
strange  fire,  produced  to  all  appearance 
by  another  miracle  of  Christ,  and  not 
have  had  all  the  scene  in  the  high 
priest's  palace  brought  back  upon  him 
with  a  sort  of  crushing  power.  Again 
is  he  standing:  as  he  stood  on  that  fatal 
night,  and  again  he  meets  the  look, 
which,  more  terrible  in  its  meek  re- 
proachfulness  than  the  fiercest  glance  of 
indignation  and  vengeance,  convicted 
him  of  apostasy,  and  convulsed  him 
with  remorse.  So  that  the  "  fire  of 
coals,"  so  pointedly  mentioned  by  the 
Evanglist,  who  alone  of  the  sacred  his- 
torians, had  recorded  of  what  the  fire 
was  made  in  the  high  priest's  hall,  helps 
to  complete  the  series  of  symbolical 
facts,  if  you  suppose  the  manifestation  of 
Christ,  on  the  occasion  before  us,  to  have 
been  granted  with  a  view  specially  to  the 
reordination  of  St.  Peter.  On  this  sup- 
position, you  are  to  consider  that  our 
blessed  Redeemer,  graciously  design- 
ing, by  a  triple  commission  which  should 
correspond  to  the  triple  denial,  to  re- 
store His  disciple  to  the  pastoral  office, 
so  arranged  the  circumstances  of  His 
manifestation  of  Himself  as  to  fix  Pe- 
ter's attention  on  the  Apostleship  with 
which  he  had  been  honored,  and  on  the 
apostasy  by  which  he  had  deserved  to 
forfeit  it  altogether.  Nothing  could  be 
better  constructed  to  fix  his  attention  on 
the  apostleship  than  a  miracle  most  ac- 
curately resembling  that  which  had  first 
moved  him  to  forsake  all  and  follow 
Christ ;  and,  accordingly,  after  another 
night  of  fruitless  toil,  the  net  is  again 
ordered  to  be  cast  into  the  sea,  and 
acrain  incloses  a  huge  multitude  of  fishes. 
But  how,  upon  this  wild  sea-shore,  is 
he  to  be  forcibly  reminded  of  his  apos- 
tasy 1  What  shall  people  that  shore 
with  recollections  of  the  scene  of  dis- 
aster and  shame  1  Nay,  if  it  was  by 
"  a  fire  of  coals "  that  the  recreant 
Apostle  stood  when  he  thrice  denied 
his  Lord,  and  if  "a  fire  of  coals" 
were  among  the  last  things  to  be  look- 
ed for  on  the  solitary  coast,  it  might 
be  hard  to  say  what  could  have  been 
better  fitted  than  a  "  fire  of  coals  "  to 
fill  Peter  with  a  remembrance  of  his 
terrible  fall.  Oh  it  must  have  been  to 
him  as  though  there  thronged  up  from 
the  past  the  taunting  questions  of  the 
servants,  and  his  own  fierce  execrations, 


and  the  shrill  crowing  of  the  cock,  and 
the  piercing  subduing  look  of  his  Lord, 
when,  so  soon  as  he  was  come  to  land, 
he  "  saw  a  fire  of  coals  there,"  lighted 
he  knew  not  how,  but  for  what  he  could 
not  doubt. 

But  whilst  we  think  that  such  an  ex- 
planation agrees  admirably  with  many 
of  the  circumstances  of  the  case,  and 
is  replete  with  interest  and  instruction, 
we  cannot  give  it  you  as  in  every  respect 
satisfactory.  Indeed,  it  manifestly  does 
not  meet  the  whole  of  the  facts.  It 
gives  no  account  of  the  preparations 
which  had  been  made  for  a  repast,  nor 
of  the  reckoning  up  the  fish,  nor  of  the 
directing  that  certain  of  the  fish  fust 
caught  should  be  dressed  in  addition  to 
those  already  prepared — a  significant 
circumstance  beyond  doubt  ;  for  He 
who  had  miraculously  provided  a  cer- 
tain quantity,  and  laid  it  on  the  coals, 
as  if  to  await  the  landing:  of  the  disci- 
pies,  might  undoubtedly  have  caused 
that  this  certain  quantity  should  be 
enough,  and  that  there  should  be  no 
need  for  waiting  till  a  portion  of  the 
fresh  draught  were  dressed.  We  have 
still,  then,  to  seek  an  explanation  which 
shall  satisfy  all  parts  of  the  narrative  : 
and  this,  we  think,  is  to  be  found  in  the 
progress  of  the  Gospel,  and  the  con- 
nection between  the  old  and  new  dis- 
pensations. 

In  one  of  our  Lord's  parables,  the 
kingdom  of  heaven  is  likened  unto  a 
net,  which,  being  cast  into  the  sea, 
"  gathered  of  every  kind  ;  "  so  that  we 
may  be  said  to  have  Christ's  own  au- 
thority for  considering  that  the  miracu- 
lous draught  of  fishes  represented  the 
bringing  of  multitudes  into  the  Church 
through  the  instrumentality  of  the 
preachers  of  the  Gospel.  It  is  observa- 
ble also  that  Simon  Peter  is  said  to  have 
drawn  the  net  to  land:  there  may  have 
been  a  reference  here  to  the  fact,  that, 
in  reward  of  his  noble  confession  of 
Christ,  Peter  was  entrusted  with  the 
opening  the  Church  to  the  Gentiles  :  he 
it  was,  who,  instructed  by  a  vision  from 
God,  admitted  by  baptism  Cornelius 
and  his  friends  to  the  privileges  of 
Christianity.  For  there  can  be  no 
doubt,  that  in  this  second  miraculous 
draught  of  fishes,  there  was  a  special 
reference  to  the  combining:  of  all  na- 
tions  in  the  visible  Church.  The  num- 
ber of  fishes  is  to  be   carefully  noted ; 


1G 


THE   FIRE  ON   THE   SHORE. 


an  hundred  and  fifty  and  three  ;  and  so 
also  is    the  remark  of  the  Evangelist, 

"  And  for  all  there  were  so  many,  yet 
was  not  the  net  broken."  As  to  the 
number,  it  appears  that  one  hundred 
and  fifty  and  three  was  exactly  the  num- 
ber of  kinds,  or  varieties  of  fish  then 
known  1  so  that  we  may  most  justly 
conclude  that  the  number  was  an  indi- 
cation that  persons  of  all  nations  and 
conditions  should  enter  into  the  Church. 
And  then  the  remark  as  to  the  net  not 
being  broken,  though  it  inclosed  so 
many  fish,  must  be  considered  as  pro- 
phetic of  the  capacity  of  the  Christian 
Church  ;  unlike  the  Jewish,  which  was 
not  constructed  for  enlargement  and  ex- 
tension, the  Christian  Church  might  era- 
It  nice  the  ends  of  the  earth,  and  not  be 
overcharged,  whatever  the  multitude 
and  variety  of  converts.  So  far,  there 
is  little  difficulty  in  assigaing  the  para- 
bolic character  of  the  narrative  before 
us ;  every  one  may  readily  follow  the 
facts,  and  be  aware  of  their  typical  im- 
port. 

But,  now,  we  come  again  to  the  "  fire 
of  coals,"  and  the  prepared  repast — 
what  truths  did  these  symbolically  teach, 
when  taken,  as  they  must  be,  in  imme- 
diate connection  with  the  other  figura- 
tive facts  ]  My  brethren,  you  are  to 
Observe  and  remember,  that  the  Jewish 
and  the  Christian  dispensations  are  not 
so  truly  distinct  and  detached  economies, 
as  component  parts  of  one  great  plan 
and  arrangement.  There  have  never 
been  two  ways  in  which  sinners  might 
be  saved  :  in  the  Old  Testament,  as  in 
the  New,  "  everlasting  life  is  offered  to 
mankind  by  Christ,  who  is  the  only  Me- 
diator between  Cod  and  man,  being  both 
God  and  man."  In  the  New  Testament, 
indeed,  we  have  the  clearer  exposition 
of  the  great  scheme  of  mercy  :  God's 
wondrous  purpose  of  saving  the  Church 
through  the  sacrifice  of  His  only-begot- 
ten Son  is  there  set  forth  with  a  fulness 
and  precision,  which  it  were  vain  to 
seek  in  the  writings  of  the  Old.  Never- 
theless, there  is  no  difference  whatso- 
ever in  the  doctrine  propounded,  but 
only  in  the  measure  of  its  revelation  ; 
and,  however  great  the  change  which 
was  made  through  the  coming  of  Christ, 
when  external  distinctions  were  swept 
away,  and  life  and  immortality  especial- 
ly brought  to  light,  there  still  went  on 
the  original  process  for  the  deliverance 


of  the  fallen  race  of  man.  The  process 
was  but  continued,  though  with  less  of 
vail  and  obscurity;  and  they  who  were 
the  first  inclosed  within  what  might  in 
strictness  be  styled  the  Gospel  net,  were 
caught — to  keep  up  the  metaphor — 
within  the  same  meshes,  and  drawn  to 
shore  through  the  same  instrumentality, 
as  men  of  olden  times,  the  righteous 
who  obtained  eternal  life  by  the  assist- 
ance of  the  patriai-chal,  or  of  the  legal 
dispensation. 

But  let  us  see  whether  this  great 
truth  may  not  have  been  figuratively 
taught  by  the  facts  of  which  we  are  en- 
deavoring  to  find  an  explanation.  There 
was  already  a  fire  kindled,  when  the 
Apostles  dragged  to  shore  the  net  which 
specially  represented  the  Christian 
Church,  the  Church,  that  is,  as  it  was 
to  subsist  in  its  expanded  form,  subse- 
quently to  the  coming  of  Christ.  And 
on  the  fire  which  was  thus  burning, 
there  were  fish  already  laid  :  yea,  and 
the  first  direction  to  the  Apostles  was, 
that  they  should  bring  of  the  fish  which 
had  just  been  caught,  and  add  them  to 
those  which  were  already  on  the  coals. 
Nowr,  since  by  the  fish  of  all  kinds, 
which,  the  net  inclosed,  we  are  undoubt- 
edly to  understand  the  members  of  the 
Church,  under  the  Gospel  dispensation, 
ought  we  not  to  understand,  by  the  fish 
already  on  the  coals,  the  members  of  the 
Church  under  the  Jewish  dispensation  'i 
This  is  nothing  but  preserving,  or  keep- 
ing up  the  metaphor.  If  the  fish  just 
caught  represented  the  converts  that 
would  be  made  by  the  preaching  of  the 
Gospel,  the  fish  which  had  been  caught 
before,  and  not  by  those  who  now  drew 
the  net  to  land,  may — we  should  rather 
say,  must — represent  those  of  whom  the 
Church  had  been  composed  during  the 
ministrations  of  the  law.  So  that  the 
visible  Church  before  Christ  was  figured 
by  the  fish  already  on  the  coals,  the 
visible  Church  after  Christ  by  the  fish 
just  inclosed  in  the  net;  and  when  the 
newly-caught  fish  were  placed  on  the 
same  fire  with  those  which  had  been 
previously  secured,  was  it  not  shown 
that  the  visible  Church,  before  and  after 
the  coming  of  Christ,  was  virtually  but 
one  and  the  same  1  that  its  members,  at 
whatever  time  they  lived,  had  to  be 
brought  to  the  same  altar,  and  to  be  puri- 
fied by  the  same  flame  1  I  know  not  why 
we  should  not  think  that  that  strange 


THE  FIRE  ON  THE  SHORE. 


17 


fire,  mysteriously  kindled  on  the  lonely 
shore,  \v;is  typical  of  the  propitiatory 
work  of  the  Redeemer,  through  whom 
alone  the  men  of  any  age  can  be  pre- 
Beuted  as  a  sacrifice  acceptable  unto 
God.  We  have  all  to  be  laid  upon  an 
altar ;  we  have  all,  as  it  were,  to  be 
subjected  to  the  action  of  fire  :  but 
there  is  no  altar  but  the  one  Mediator, 
and  no  tire-  but  that  of  his  one  great  ob- 
lation, which  will  answer  for  those  who 
seek  to  consecrate  themselves,  a  whole 
burnt  offering,  to  their  Creator  in  hea- 
ven. 

And  what  could  be  a  more  lively 
parable  of  this  fact,  than  that,  just  be- 
fore his  departure  from  earth,  when 
standing  on  the  margin  of  the  sea,  the 
separating-line,  so  to  speak,  between 
time  and  eternity,  Christ  caused  an 
altar  to  rise,  mysterious  as  Himself — for 
no  human  hands  reared  it, — and  crown- 
ed it  with  burning  coals,  which  had  not 
been  kindled  by  any  earthly  flame  ;  and 
then  brought  about  that  there  should  be 
placed  on  this  sacred  and  significant 
fire  representatives  of  the  one  visible 
Church,  as  it  had  subsisted  before  his 
incarnation,  and  as  it  was  to  subsist  till 
He  should  come  the  second  time  to 
judgment  ? 

It  seems  to  have  been  a  lesson  pecu- 
liarly needed  by  the  Apostles,  that  they 
were  but  following  up  the  labors  of  the 
men  of  earlier  times  ;  that  they  were 
not  to  consider  themselves  as  going 
forth  on  a  new  mission,  of  which  no  no- 
tices bad  been  previously  issued ;  but 
rather  as  charged  with  the  fresh  pro- 
clamation of  truths  which  had  been  con- 
tinuously, though  more  obscurely,  an- 
nounced. There  was  naturally  great 
likelihood  that  the  first  preachers  of 
Christianity,  having  to  publish  the  won- 
drous and  startling  facts  of  Christ's 
birth,  and  death,  and  resurrection,  would 
overlook  the  close  connection  between 
the  old  and  the  new  dispensation.  Ac- 
cordingly Christ  had  forcibly  reminded 
them  of  it  when  He  said,  "  Herein  is 
that  saying  true,  One  soweth,  and  ano- 
ther reapeth.  I  sent  you  to  reap  that* 
whereon  ye  bestowed  no  labor;  other 
men  labored,  and  ye  are  entered  into  their 
labors."  And  now  he  repeats  something 
of  the  same  lesson,  conveying  it,  not 
through  words,  but  through  expressive 
emblems  or  figures.  He  srives  them  a 
miraculous  draught  of  fishes  :  and  for- 


asmuch as  He  had  before,  in  a  parable, 
likened  the  kingdom  of  heaven  to  a  net 
which  gathered  of  all  kinds,  they  would 
naturally  consider  these  fishes  as  repre- 
senting the  converts  to  the  Christian  re- 
ligion. But  they  were  not  to  suppose 
that  these  converts  formed  a  separate 
body,  or  were  to  be  saved  by  different 
means,  from  the  servants  of  God  under 
earlier  dispensations.  The  Church  in 
all  ages  was  one,  and  one  also  was  the 
mode  of  deliverance.  How  shall  this 
be  shown,  so  as  to  keep  up  the  lesson, 
or  rather  the  emblem  of  the  net  and  the 
draught  ?  Indeed,  whether  the  Apos- 
tles understood  it  or  not  at  the  first,  we 
may  venture  to  say  that  the  truths,  that 
there  had  never  been  but  one  altar  for 
the  sinful,  never  but  one  cleansing,  con- 
secrating flame,  and  that  the  righteous, 
however  separated  by  time,  and  by  ex- 
ternal ordinances  and  privileges,  had 
communion  and  fellowship  in  one  and 
the  same  mystic  body, — that  these  truths 
could  not  have  been  more  significantly 
exhibited  to  them,  nor  more  consistently 
with  the  emblem  of  the  miraculous 
draught,  than  when,  "so  soon  as  they 
were  come  to  land,  they  saw  a  fire  of 
coals  there,  and  fish  laid  thereon  and 
bread,"  and  received  immediately  this 
direction  from  Christ,  "  Bring  of  the 
fish  which  ye  have  now  caught." 

Now  it  can  hardly  be  said  that  there 
is  any  part  of  the  remarkable  trans- 
action before  us  which  does  not  thus 
find  a  consistent  interpretation.  It 
is  true,  indeed,  that  we  have  made  no 
observation  on  there  having  been  bread 
as  well  as  fish  already  provided  ;  where- 
as the  Evangelist  is  careful  in  noting  it, 
and  in  afterwards  nrentionincr  that  our 
Lord  took  of  both,  of  the  bread  and 
the  fish,  and  gave  to  his  disciples.  But 
we  may  readily  allow  that  different  ends 
were  subserved  by  the  same  series  of 
facts  :  it  is  never  required,  in  the  in- 
terpretation of  a  parable,  whether  de- 
livered in  word  or  by  action,  that  every 
minute  particular  should  be  made  to 
shadow  forth  a  truth.  When  we  inter- 
preted the  facts  with  a  special  reference 
to  the  case  of  St.  Peter,  we  had  no  use 
to  make  either  of  the  fish,  or  of  the 
bread  :  but  we  do  not  on  that  account 
conclude  that  the  fire  of  coals  might 
not  have  been  instrumental,  or  might 
not  have  been  designed  as  instrumental, 
to  the  recalling  to  the  Apostle  the  cir- 


18 


THE  FIRE  ON  THE  SHORE. 


cumstaiices  of  his  fearful  apostasy.  In 
like  manner,  if  there  be  no  special  sig- 
nificance in  the  bread,  when  the  narra- 
tive is  applied  to  the  shadowing  out  the 
progress  of  the  Gospel,  and  the  one- 
ness of  the  Church  under  various  dis- 
pensations, we  do  not  think  this  any 
objection  to  the  fitness  of  the  applica- 
tion :  we  suppose  that  the  refreshment 
of  the  wearied  disciples  was  one  of  the 
purposes  for  which  the  fire  had  been 
kindled,  and  the  food  prepared ;  and 
there  was  use  for  the  bread  in  regard 
of  this  purpose,  if  not  of  any  other. 

Though  it  would  not  be  hard  to  believe 
that  the  fish  and  the  bread  were  com- 
bined with  a  higher  intent.  Christ,  you 
will  remember,  had  fed  a  great  multi- 
tude with  a  few  loaves  and  fishes,  typi- 
fying how  the  truths  and  doctrines  of 
his  religion  should  suffice  for  the  spirit 
vial  sustenance  of  the  world.  The  dis 
ciples  would  naturally  be  reminded  of 
this  miracle,  when  Jesus  again  took 
bread  and  fish,  and  distributed  amongst 
them — reminded  too  (and  what  parting 
lesson  could  be  more  important  ])  that 
the  food  which  Christ  delivered  to  them 
as  spiritual  pastors,  would  be  an  abun- 
dant provision  for  the  men  of  all  ages 
and  countries. 

But,  now,  considering  that  a  sufficient 
and  consistent  interpretation  has  been 
assigned  to  the  several  parts  of  the  nar- 
rative before  us,  we  would  show  you, 
in  conclusion,  into  how  beautiful  an  al- 
legory some  of  the  facts  may  be  wrought, 
when  a  broader  view  is  taken,  one 
which  shall  more  distinctly  comprehend 
ourselves.  We  would  not,  indeed, 
claim,  for  what  we  have  now  to  advance, 
the  character  of  an  explanation,  or  in- 
terpretation, of  the  significative  circum- 
stances— it  is  at  best  but  an  accommo- 
dation of  the  parable  :  but  when  a  por- 
tion of  Scripture  has  been  expounded, 
as  if  relating  rather  to  others  than  to 
ourselves,  it  is  both  lawful  and  useful  to 
search  for  some  personal  application, 
that  we  may  feel  our  own  interest,  and 
find  our  own  profit,  in  the  passage  re- 
viewed. 

It  is  a  natural  and  appropriate  simile 
which  likens  life  to  a  voyage,  a  voyage 
which  has  variety  of  terminations — 
sometimes  in  calm,  sometimes  in  storm; 
the  vessel,  in  one  case,  casting  anchor 
in  placid  waters,  so  that  the  spirit  has 
but,  if  we  may  use  the  expression,  to 


step  gently  ashore ;  in  another,  suffer- 
ing shipwreck,  so  that  there  is  fearful 
strife  and  peril  in  escaping  from  the 
waves.  We  shall  all  reach  the  shore  of 
another  world  :  for  though  some  may 
be  said  to  be  thrown  violently  on  that 
shore,  whilst  others  are  landed  on  it,  as 
though  by  the  kind  ministry  of  angels, 
none  can  perish  as  if  existence  might 
terminate  at  death  ;  of  all  it  will  have 
to  be  said,  as  of  those  with  St.  Paul 
in  the  ship,  some  by  swimming,  some 
on  boards,  and  some  on  broken  pieces 
of  the  ship,  "  it  came  to  pass  that 
they  escaped  all  safe  to  land." 

And  there  is  something  of  a  delinea- 
tion of  this  variety  of  modes  of  death, 
in  Peter's  struggling  through  the  water, 
whilst  the  other  disciples  approach  the 
shore  in  their  boat.  Peter's  is  the  vio- 
lent death,  the  death  of  the  martyr ;  but 
his  companions  find  a  gentler  dismissal 
from  the  flesh ;  theirs  is  the  natural 
death,  death  with  fewer  of  the  accom- 
paniments which  invest  the  last  act  with 
terror  and  awfulness.  Yet,  die  when 
we  will,  and  how  we  will,  there  is  a 
mysteriousness  about  the  moment  of 
dissolution,  which  must  cause  it  to  be 
expected  with  some  measure  of  fear 
and  apprehension.  The  passing  in  that 
moment  from  time  to  eternity — the  be- 
coming in  that  instant  a  disembodied 
spirit,  a  naked,  unclothed  soul,  launched 
upon  an  unknown  scene,  with  none  of 
the  instruments  heretofore  employed  for 
the  ingathering  of  knowledge,  or  the 
communication  of  thought — oh,  who 
ever  marked,  so  far  as  it  can  be  mark- 
ed, the  noiseless  flitting  away  of  man's 
immortal  part,  without  experiencing  a. 
painful  inquisitiveness  as  to  what,  had 
become  of  that  part,  as  to  where  it 
was,  as  to  what  it  saw,  as  to  what 
it  heard  1  There  may  be  a  thorough 
assurance  that  the  soul  has  gone  to 
be  with  the  Lord  ;  but  whilst  this  de- 
stroys all  anxiety  on  its  account,  it 
does  not,  cannot,  repress  the  striving 
of  the  mind  to  follow  it  in  its  flight,  the 
intense  gaze  at  the  folds  of  the  vail 
which  hangs  between  the  present  world 
and  the  future,  as  if  it  must  have  been 
so  far  withdrawn  for  the  admission  of 
the  spirit  just  freed  from  flesh,  that  some 
glimpse  might  be  caught  by  the  watch- 
ful of  the  unexplored  region  beyond. 

But  in  vain  this  striving  of  the  mind, 
this  intenseness  of  the   gaze.     Whilst 


THE  FIRE  ON  THE  SHORE. 


19 


we  live,  it  is  as  an  infinite  desert,  which 
no  thought  can  traverse,  that  separates 
the  two  worlds  ;  though,  when  we  come 
to  die,  it  will  he  found  hut  a  line,  like 
that  which  the  last  wave  leaves  on  a  sandy 
shoi'e.  Let  it  satisfy  us,  in  the  mean- 
while, that  whatever  the  mode  in  which 
the  soul  of  the  righteous  is  dismissed — 
whether  that  mode  be  imaged  in  Peter's 
casting  himself  into  the  sea,  and  strug- 
gling to  the  land,  or  whether  it  he  re- 
presented in  the  quieter  approachings 
of  the  boat  with  the  other  disciples — 
the  soul  will  find  preparation,  as  it  were, 
for  its  reception  :  Christ  stands  upon  the 
shore,  expecting  his  faithful  servants  ; 
and  of  all  of  them  it  will  have  to  be 
said,  in  the  words  of  our  text,  "  As  soon 
as  they  were  come  to  land,  they  saw  a 
fire  of  coals  there,  and  fish  laid  thereon, 
and  bread."  Oh,  this  may  well  shadow 
out,  what  we  have  abundant  warrant  for 
believing  from  more  express  statements 
of  Scripture,  that,  to  the  faithful  in 
Christ,  the  moment  of  being  detached 
from  the  body  is  the  moment  of  being 
admitted  into  happiness.  "  As  soon  as 
they  were  come  to  land  " — no  delay,  no 
interval — all  that  was  needed  was  found 
ready  ;  the  fire  kindled,  and  the  banquet 
spread. 

Yet  who  doubts  that  the  righteous 
will  not  only  find  the  material  of  happi- 
ness prepared,  but  that  they  will  carry 
with  them,  so  to  speak,  additions  to  that 


material,  and  make  heaven  all  the  richer 
and  the  brighter  by  their  arrival  1  It  is 
"  the  communion  of  saints  ;  "  and  whilst 
each  saint  shall  draw  cause  of  rapture 
from  those  who  have  gone  before,  they 
also  shall  draw  cause  of  rapture  from 
him.  Ah,  then,  how  beautifully  appo- 
site the  direction,  "  Bring  of  the  fish 
which  ye  have  now  caught."  The  ban- 
quet, the  marriage-supper  of  the  Lamb, 
shall  be  furnished  from  the  contributions 
of  every  generation  ;  all  that  any  man, 
in  any  age,  has  been  enabled  to  accom- 
plish in  works  of  righteousness  and 
faith,  every  spiritual  battle  won,  every 
convert  made,  shall  be  mingled  in  that 
vast  store  of  happiness,  of  which  the  glo- 
rified Church  shall  everlastingly  partake. 
"  Blessed  are  the  dead  which  die  in 
the  Lord :  yea,  saith  the  Spirit,  that 
they  may  rest  from  their  labors  ;  and 
their  works  do  follow  them."  They 
"  rest  from  their  labors,"  in  that,  as  soon 
as  they  come  to  land,  they  see  a  fire  of 
coals  there,  and  fish  laid  thereon,  and 
bread  :  "  their  works  do  follow  them," 
in  that  they  are  then  bidden  to  bring  of 
the  fish  which  they  have  caught.  Oh, 
that  we  may  all  so  labor  during  life,  that 
hereafter,  when  judged,  as  we  must  be, 
by  our  works,  there  may  be  found,  not 
indeed — what  can  never  be — a  claim  to 
the  happiness  of  heaven,  but  an  evi- 
dence of  our  having  loved  the  Lord  Je- 
sus in  sincerity  and  truth. 


THE  FINDING  THE  GUEST-CHAMBER. 


SERMON    III. 


THE  FINDING  THE  GUEST-CHAMBER. 


"  And  he  sendeth  forth  two  of  his  disciples,  and  saith  unto  them,  Go  ye  into  the  city,  and  there  shall  meet  you  a  man 
bearing  a  pitcher  of  water :  follow  him.  And  wheresoever  he  shall  go  in,  say  ye  to  the  pood  man  of  the  house. 
The  Master  saith,  Where  is  the  guest-chamber,  where  I  shall  eat  the  passover  with  my  disciples?  Aud  he  will 
■hew  you  a  large  upper  room  furnished  and  prepared :  there  make  ready  for  us." — St.  Mark,  xiv.  13,  14,  15. 


The  time  was  now  at  hand  when  our 
Lord  was  to  complete,  by  the  sacrifice 
of  Himself,  the  "Teat  work  for  which 
He  had  taken  upon  Him  our  nature. 
He  had  wrought  miracle  upon  miracle, 
in  evidence  of  a  divine  commission  ;  and 
He  had  delivered  discourse  upon  dis- 
course, in  illustration  of  the  dispensation 
which  he  had  come  to  introduce.  But 
without  shedding;  of  blood  there  could 
be  no  remission  of  sin ;  and  all  his  ac- 
tions, and  sermons,  had  been  but  pre- 
paratory to  a  wondrous  and  fearful  oc- 
currence, the  surrender  of  Himself  to 
the  will  of  his  enemies,  to  the  death  of 
a  malefactor. 

The  disciples  should  have  been  aware 
— for  Christ  gave  them  frequent  warn- 
ing— that  the  time  of  separation  from 
their  Master  was  almost  arrived,  and 
that  the  separation  would  be  effected  in 
a  manner  most  trying  to  their  faith. 
Yet  they  appear  to  have  closed  their 
eyes,  in  a  great  degree,  to  the  coming 
events  :  after  all  which  had  been  done 
to  prepare  them,  they  were  taken  by 
surprise,  and  seemed  as  bewildered  and 
confounded  by  what  befel  Christ,  as 
though  He  had  not,  in  the  most  express 
terms,  forewarned  them  of  his  crucifix- 
ion and  burial.  This  arose  from  their 
unbelief  and  hardness  of  heart  :  they 
had  not  yet  divested  themselves  of  the 
thought  and  hope  of  a  temporal  king- 
dom ;  and,  whatever  the  process  by 
which  they  contrived  to  explain  away, 
or  hide  from  themselves,  the  clear  state- 
ments of  our  Lord,  it  is  manifest  that 
they  had  virtually  no  expectation  that 
Christ   would  be   nailed   to  the  cross, 


and  that  his  dying  this  shameful  death 
passed  with  them  as  well-nigh  a  proof, 
that  He  could  not  be  the  deliverer  pro- 
mised unto  Israel. 

But  it  is  beautiful  to  observe  what 
pains,  so  to  speak,  were  taken  by  the 
compassionate  Savior  to  fortify  the  dis- 
ciples, to  arm  them  for  the  approaching 
days  of  temptation  and  disaster.  We 
have  at  other  times  shown  you  how  this 
tender  consideration  for  his  followers 
may  be  traced  in  the  arrangements 
which  He  made  for  his  last  entry  into 
Jerusalem,  in  accomplishment  of  the 
prophecy  of  Zechariah,  that  her  King 
should  come  to  Zion,  sitting  upon  an 
ass,  and  upon  a  colt  the  foal  of  an  ass. 
It  was  in  a  strange  and  circuitous  way 
that  Christ  provided  Himself  with  the 
animal  on  which  He  was  to  ride.  He 
sent  two  of  his  disciples  to  a  particular 
spot,  informing  them  that  they  should 
there  find  an  ass  and  a  colt.  He  direct- 
ed them  to  take  possession  of  these  ani- 
mals, and  lead  them  away,  as  though 
they  had  been  their  own.  He  furnished 
them  with  certain  words,  in  reply  to 
any  remonstrance  which  the  owners 
might  make,  and  assured  them  that 
these  words  would  induce  the  owners 
to  part  with  their  property.  How  sin- 
gular, how  intricate  a  mode  of  obtaining, 
what  probably  would  have  been  brought 
Him,  had  He  merely  mentioned  his 
wish  to  any  one  in  the  multitude.  But 
was  there  not  good  reason  for  his  pre- 
ferring this  circuitous  method  1  We 
may  be  sure  there  was ;  even  as,  when 
the  tribute  money  had  to  be  paid,  there 
was  good  reason  for  his  sending  Peter 


THE   FINDING  THE  GUEST-CHAMI5ER. 


21 


to  the  sea,  and  making  him  find  the 
piece  of  money  in  the  month  of  the  fish 
which  he  first  caught,  in  place  of  pro- 
ducing, as  Ho  might  have  done,  the 
money  at  once,  divesting  the  miracle  of 
all  intricate  accompaniments.  And 
there  is  no  difficulty  in  assigning  reasons 
for  the  method  which  our  Lord  took  to 
procure  the  humble  equipage  of  which 
He  had  need.  The  foreknowledge 
which  He  displayed  as  to  mean  and  in- 
considerable things,  such  as  the  ass  and 
her  colt  ;  the  influence  which,  though 
at  a  distance,  He  put  forth  upon  the 
owners,  inducing  them  to  part  with  their 
property, — these  surely  were  calculated 
to  convince  the  disciples  (and  upon  no 
point,  at  that  moment,  had  they  greater 
need  of  assurance)  that  Christ  would 
have  his  eye  upon  them  in  their  poverty 
and  distress,  and  that  his  not  being  visi- 
bly present,  would  in  no  degree  inter- 
fere with  his  power  of  subduing  his  ene- 
mies, and  sustaining  his  friends. 

But  our  Lord  was  not  content  with 
having,  in  this  signal  instance,  furnished 
his  followers  with  such  evidences  of  his 
prescience  and  power,  as  were  most 
adapted  to  prepare  them  for  the  on- 
coming trial.  In  the  course  of  a  very 
few  days,  and  when  the  time  of  his  cru- 
cifixion was  close  at  hand,  He  took  a 
similar  roundabout  way  of  obtaining 
what  He  needed,  with  the  intent,  as  we 
may  believe,  of  again  impressing  on  the 
disciples  the  truths  which  would  best 
support  them  in  their  approaching  tri- 
bulation. Our  Lord  was  now  in  Betha- 
ny, in  the  confines  of  Jerusalem,  await- 
ing the  final  act  of  rejection  by  the 
Jews.  The  first  day  of  the  feast  of  un- 
leavened bread  having  arrived,  the  dis- 
ciples came  to  Him,  saying,  "  Where 
wilt  thou  that  we  go  and  prepare,  that 
thou  mayest  eat  the  passover  '{  " 
This  was  a  very  simple  question,  sup- 
posing, as  was  undoubtedly  the  case, 
that  Christ  had  determined  in  what 
house  he  would  partake  of  the  last  sup- 
per with  his  followers.  And  He  might 
have  delivered  a  very  simple  answer-, 
indicating  the  street  in  the  city,  and  the 
name  of  the  householder.  This  is  what 
woidd  most  naturally  have  been  done 
under  ordinary  circumstances,  but  our 
Lord,  as  you  will  observe,  took  a  wholly 
different  course.  In  place  of  a  simple 
answer,  He  gave  the  most  complicated 
directions.     He  tells  his  disciples  to  go 


into  the  city,  mentioning  no  particular 
quarter,  but  bidding  them  proceed  till 
they  should  meet  a  man  carrying  a 
pitcher  of  water.  They  were  to  follow 
this  man — not  to  speak  to  him,  with  the 
view  of  ascertaining  whether  he  were 
the  right  person  to  follow — but  to  fol- 
low him,  and  to  enter  any  house  into 
which  he  might  go.  They  were  then 
to  accost  the  master  of  this  house — not, 
as  it  would  appear,  the  same  person  a3 
they  had  been  following — but  they  were 
to  accost  him  without  ceremony,  in  an 
abrupt  manner,  as  making  a  claim,  ra- 
ther than  as  preferring  a  request.  "  The 
Master  saith,  Where  is  the  guest-cham- 
ber, where  I  shall  eat  the  passover  with 
my  disciples  1  "  Christ  assured  his  mes- 
sengers, that,  upon  this,  a  large  upper 
room  would  he  shown  them,  "  furnished 
and  prepared."  Thus,  accordingly,  it 
came  to  pass.  We  read  in  the  next 
verse,  "  His  disciples  went  forth,  and 
came  into  the  city,  and  found  as  He  had 
said  unto  them." 

But  you  can  hardly  read  of  so  intri- 
cate a  way  of  doing  a  simple  thing,  and 
not  ask — as  in  regard  of  the  mode  of 
obtaining  the  ass  and  the  colt — why  did 
our  Lord  take  so  roundabout  a  method  % 
why  did  He  not  go  more  directly  to  his 
end  1  We  may  he  sure  that  there  were 
good  reasons  :  these  reasons,  we  may 
believe,  are  still  to  be  found  in  the  cir- 
cumstances of  the  disciples,  and  in  the 
desire  of  Christ  to  strengthen  them  for 
the  trial  which  was  now  close  at  hand  ; 
and  we  invite  you  to  an  attentive  sur- 
vey of  the  several  particulars  specified 
in  our  text,  that  you  may  the  better 
judge  whether  it  was  not  with  a  wise 
and  tender  regard  for  those  from  whom 
He  was  so  soon  to  be  separated,  that 
Jesus,  in  place  of  sending  Peter  and 
John  direct  to  the  house  where  He  de- 
signed to  eat  the  passover,  bade  them 
go  into  the  city,  and  look  out  for,  and 
follow,  "a  man  bearing  a  pitcher  of 
water." 

Now,  let  the  preparation  have  been 
ever  so  labored  and  explicit,  it  cannot 
be  denied  that  it  was  a  great  trial  of 
faith  which  the  disciples  were  about  to 
undergo,  in  beholding  their  Master  given 
up  to  the  wiles  of  his  enemies,  and  in 
being  themselves  exposed  to  fierce  per- 
secution. Even  had  they  thoroughly 
understood,  and  apprehended,  the  pre- 
dictions of  Christ  in  regard  of  his  own 


22 


THE  FINDING  THE  GUEST-CHAMBER. 


"betrayal  and  death,  it   could   not  have 
been  other  than  a  terrible  shock,  a  shock 
calculated  to  overthrow  all  but  the  very 
firmest  trust,  when  the  powers  of  dark- 
ness seemed  to  triumph,  and  evil  angels, 
and  evil   men,   prevailed  against  right- 
eousness.    It  must  then    have  been  a 
great  thing  for  the  disciples,  that  faith 
should  be  kept   in  exercise  up  to  the 
very     time    when    so    vast    a    demand 
was  to  be  made  upon  its  energies ;  for, 
assuredly,  in  proportion  as  faith  was  left 
inactive  till  summoned  to  face  the  shame 
of  the  cross,  woud  be  the  likelihood  of 
its  then  giving  way,  as  not  having  been 
practised,  in  lesser  encounters.     Faith, 
like     other     powers,     is     strengthened 
through  use ;   and  every  believer  must 
feel,  that  if,  after  a  long  period  of  com- 
parative peace  and  security,  he  is  sud- 
denly met  by  an  extraordinary  onset  of 
trial,  there  is  much  greater  risk  of  his 
being  confounded  and  overborne,  than 
if  the  extraordinary  onset  were  to  come 
after  a  lengthened  series  of  less  virulent 
assaults.     The  spiritual  arm,  as  well  as 
the  bodily,  becomes  fitted  for  encounter 
with  the  giant,  through  frequent  encoun- 
ters with  formidable,  but  not  as  formid- 
able,  adversaries;  though  either,  if  ex- 
posed, without  this  previous  discipline, 
to  a  contest  with  Goliath  of  Gath,  might 
prove  wholly  insufficient,  and  give  way 
at   once,  having  scarce    attempted  the 
battle.     It  was  after  having  met  the  lion 
and  the  bear,  that  David  went  forth  to 
meet  the  uncircumcised  Philistine. 

And  we  might  expect  that  Christ, 
knowing  to  how  great  effort  the  faith  of 
bis  followers  was  about  to  be  called, 
would,  in  his  compassionate  earnestness 
for  their  welfare,  keep  their  faith  in  ex- 
ercise up  to  the  moment  of  the  dreaded 
separation.  He  would  find, or  make  occa- 
sions for  trying  and  testing  the  princi- 
ples which  were  soon  to  be  brought 
to  so  stern  a  proof.  Did  He  do  this  '? 
and  how  did  he  do  it  1  We  regard  the 
circumstances  which  are  now  under  re- 
view, those  connected  with  the  finding 
the  guest-chamber  in  which  the  last  sup- 
per might  be  eaten,  as  an  evidence  and 
illustration  of  Christ's  exercising  the 
faith  of  his  disciples. 

Was  it  not  exercising  the  faith  of 
Peter  and  John — for  these,  the  more 
distinguished  of  the  disciples,  were  em- 
ployed on  the  errand — to  send  them  in- 
to the  city  with  such  strange  and  desul- 


tory directions  1     How  natural  for  them 
to  have  said,  why  not  tell  us  at  once  the 
house  to  which  we  are  to  go  1  we  shall 
perhaps  meet  a  dozen  men,  each  bear- 
ing a  pitcher  of  water ;  we  are  as  likely 
to  follow  the   wrong  as  the   right ;   and 
as  to  enterino:   a  stranger's  house,  and 
abrubtly  requiring  him  to  show    us  the 
guest-chamber,   how    improbable    is  it 
that  we   shall   meet  with  any  thing  but 
insult,  insult  which  will    really  be  de- 
served, considering  that  we  shall  have 
taken   an   inexcusable  liberty.      There 
were  so  many  chances,  if  the  word  may 
be  used,  against  the  guest-chamber  be- 
ing found  through  the  circuitous  method 
prescribed  by  our  Lord,  that  we  could 
not  have  wondered,  had  Peter  and  John 
shown  reluctance  to  obey  his  command. 
And   we   do  not   doubt  that   what  are 
called  the  chances,  were  purposely  mul- 
tiplied by  Christ,  to  make  the   finding 
the  room  seem  more  improbable,   and 
therefore  to  give  faith  the  greater  exer- 
cise.    It  could  be  no  unusual  thing  for 
a  man  to  be  carrying  a  pitcher  of  water 
— Christ  might  have   given  some  more 
remarkable  sign.     But  it  was  its  not  be- 
ing remarkable  which   made  place  for 
faith.     Accain,  there  would    have  been 
risk   enough   of  mistake  or  repulse,  in 
accosting  the   man   with    the    pitcher  : 
but  this  man   was  only  to  be  followed ; 
and  he  might  stop  at  many  houses  be- 
fore he  reached  the  right ;   and  the  mas- 
ter of  the  house  might  be  from  home — 
how    many    contingencies   might    have 
been  avoided,  if  Christ  would  but  have 
given    more    explicit   directions.      But 
Christ  would  not  be  more  explicit,  be- 
cause,  in   propoition   as   He  had  been 
more  explicit,  there    would    have  been 
less  exercise  for  faith. 

And  if  you  imagine  that,  after  all,  it 
was  no  Qfreat  demand  on  the  faith  of 
Peter  and  John,  that  they  should  go  on 
so  vai^ue  an  errand — for  that  much  did 
not  hinge  on  their  finding  the  right 
place,  and  they  had  but  to  return,  if 
any  thing  wont  wrong — we  are  altogeth- 
er at  issue  with  you.  I  have  no  hesita- 
tion in  maintaining,  that  any  one  of  you 
would  have  been  loath  to  go  into  Jeru- 
salem for  such  a  purpose,  and  with  such 
directions  ;  ay,  more  loath  than  to  un- 
dertake some  signal  enterprise,  manifest- 
ly requiring  high  courage  and  fortitude. 
There    was   something  that  looked   de- 


g 


rading 


anc 


1 


ignoble 


in   the   errand — 


THE  FINDING  THE  GUEST-CII AMI5ER. 


23 


men  who  could  work  miracles,  and  who 
had  been  with  Christ  when  transfigured, 
being  sent  to  look  about  the  streets  for 
a  man  bearing  a  pitcher  of  water,  and 
to  enter  a  stranger's  house  where  they 
were  only  likely  to  meet  rudeness. 

And  the  apparent  meanness  of  an  em- 
ployment will  often  try  faith  more  than 
its  apparent  difficulty  ;  the  exposure  to 
ridicule  and  contempt  will  require 
greater  moral  nerve  than  the  exposure 
to  danger  and  death.  How  should  it 
be  otherwise,  when  genuine  humility  is 
among  the  hardest  things  to  acquire 
and  maintain  :  and  when,  consequently, 
whatsoever  goes  directly  to  the  morti- 
fying pride  will  more  touch  men  to  the 
quick,  than  any  amount  of  effort,  or  of 
sacrifice,  round  which  may  be  thrown 
something  of  a  lofty  or  chivalrous  as- 
pect '?  Oh,  do  not  tell  us  of  great  faith 
as  required  only  for  the  following  Christ 
bearing  his  cross — there  was  great  faith 
required  also  for  the  following  the  man 
bearing  the  pitcher.  Tell  us  not  of  its 
being  a  hard  task  to  goin  unto  Pharaoh, 
and  to  say,  "  Thus  saith  the  Lord,  Let 
my  people  go ;  "  it  was  a  hard  task 
also  to  go  in  unto  the  stranger,  and  say, 
"  Thus  saith  the  Master,  Where  is  the 
guest-chamber  1  " 

We  believe  that  it  is  very  frequently 
ordered  that  faith  should  he  disciplined 
and  nurtured  for  its  hardest  endurances, 
and  its  highest  achievements,  through 
exposure  to  petty  inconveniences,  col- 
lisions with  mere  rudeness,  the  obloquy 
of  the  proud,  the  sneer  of  the  super- 
cilious, and  the  incivility  of  the  ignorant. 
Men  have  looked  wonderingly,  as  some 
unflinching  confessor,  some  candidate 
for  the  bloody  crown  of  martyrdom,  has 
stepped  forth  from  ranks  which  had 
only  simple  duties  to  discharge,  and 
common  trials  to  face,  and  displayed  a 
constancy,  and  a  courage,  surpassing 
those  exhibited  by  Christians  trained  in 
higher  schools  of  experience.  But  they 
have  forgotten,  or  they  have  not  known, 
that  no  where  is  faith  so  well  disciplined 
as  in  humble  occupations,  that  it  grows 
great  through  little  tasks,  and  may  be 
more  exercised  by  being  kept  to  the 
menial  business  of  a  servant,  than  by 
being  summoned  to  the  lofty  standing 
of  a  leader.  They  have  forgotten,  or 
they  have  not  known,  that  the  uncour- 
teous  repulses,  the  ungracious  slights, 
the   contemptuous  insults,    to    which  a 


Christian  may  be  exposed  in  acting  out 
his  Christianity  in  every-day  life,  and 
amid  the  most  common-place  circum- 
stances, put  his  principles  to  severe 
proof,  or  keep  them  in  full  work  ;  and 
that  the  very  fact  of  his  having  moved 
in  so  humble  a  sphere,  and  been  plied 
with  trials  so  unostentatious  and  petty, 
has  had  a  direct  tendency  to  the  harden- 
ing him  for  conflict,  ay,  though  it  might 
be  with   "principalities  and  powers." 

And  it  seems  to  us  that  Christ  was 
practically  teaching,  and  illustrating  all 
this,  in  the  course  which  he  took  with 
his  disciples,  as  the  time  of  their  great 
trial  drew  near.  We  may  justly  assume 
that  He  sought  to  prepare  them  for  this 
trial,  that  it  was  his  object  to  keep  their 
faith  exercised,  that  the  likelihood  misrht 
be  less  of  its  giving  way  at  the  last. 
And  his  method  of  exercise  was  by 
employing  them  on  eiTands  which  threat- 
ened to  be  fruitless,  and  seemed  to  be 
degrading.  Five  days  before  his  cruci- 
fixion, He  sends  two  disciples  to  look 
for  an  ass  and  a  colt,  where  they  were 
perhaps  little  likely  to  be  found,  and  to 
remove  them  at  the  risk  of  being  regard- 
ed as  robbers,  and  therefore  treated 
with  insult  or  violence.  And  now  two 
days  before  his  crucifixion,  He  sends 
two  disciples  to  find  him  a  place  where 
He  may  celebrate  the  passover;  but  He 
seems  to  take  pains,  not  only  to  avoid 
the  being  simple  in  his  directions,  but 
to  make  those  directions  involve  as 
many  probabilities  as  possible  of  what 
would  be  irksome  and  unpleasant,  as 
much  exposure  as  possible  to  mistake, 
repulse,  contempt — the  very  things 
from  which  men  are  most  ready  to 
shrink — for  He  bids  his  disciples  walk 
the  city  till  they  meet  a  man  bearing  a 
pitcher  of  water,  follow  that  man,  enter 
any  house  into  which  he  might  go,  and 
accost  the  master  of  the  house  with  the 
unceremonious  message,  "  The  Master 
saith,  Where  is  the  guest-chamber, 
where  I  shall  eat  the  passover  with  my 
disciples  '?  " 

We  should,  however,  be  taking  only 
a  contracted  view  of  the  circumstances 
before  us,  if  we  considered  them  merely 
with  reference  to  an  exercise  of  faith, 
a;  though  Christ's  only  object  had  been 
the  disciplining  his  disciples  for  the 
shame  of  the  cross,  by  employing  them 
on  errands  from  which  their  pride  would 
revolt.     That  this  was  one  great  object, 


84 


THE  FINDING  THE  GUEST-CHAMBER. 


we  think  it  lawful  to  infer,  as  well  from 
the  nature  of  the   case,  as  from  the  re- 
semblance   of  the     proceeding  to  that 
which  had   occurred  hut  three  days  he- 
fore,  when  the  two   disciples  were  dis- 
patched for   the  ass  and  the  colt.     You 
can  hardly  fail   to  admit,  that  the  same 
principle  must  have  been  at  work  in  the 
two  eases — so  similarly  are  the  chances 
of  mistake  and  repulse  multiplied,   and, 
with  these,  the   chances    of  insult;   our 
Lord  is  evidently  carrying  on  a  system, 
a  system,  if  we  may  use  the  expression, 
of  humiliating  errands,   as  though  He 
would  thereby  prepare  his  followers  to 
face  persecution  in  its  more  awful  forms. 
And  we  do  earnestly  desire  of  you  to 
bear   this   in    mind;   for   men,    who  are 
not  appointed  to  great  achievements  and 
endn  ranees,  are  very  apt  to  feel  as  though 
there  were  not  enough,  in  the  trials  and 
duties  of  a  lowly  station,  for  the  nurture 
and  exercise  of  high    Christian  graces. 
Whereas,  if  it  were  by  merely  follow- 
ing a   man   hearing  a   pitcher  of  water 
that  Apostles  were  trained  for  the  worst 
Onsets   of  evil,  there   may  he   no  such 
School  for  the  producing  strong  faith  as 
that  in  which  the  lessons  are  of  the  most 
every-day  kind.     It  is  a  remarkable  say- 
ing of  our  hlessed   Lord,  "If  any  man 
wilt  come   after  me.  let   him  deny  him- 
self  and  take    up  his    cross   daily,   and 
foil  «v  me."    "  Take  up  his  cross  daily  " 
- — then    there    is    a    cross  to    he  home 
every  day  :   the  cross  is  not  to  be  carried 
only  0:1  great  occasions;  the  cross  is  to 
be  carried  daily  :  a  true  Christian   will 
find    the    cross,    nay,    cannot    miss  the 
cross,    in    the    events,    the    duties,   the 
trials,  of  every  day — else  how  is  he  to 
"  take  up  his  cross  daily  ]  "  how  to  fol- 
low Christ  daily  'I     Ah,  we  are  too  apt 
to  think   that   taking   up  the  cross,   and 
following   Christ,    are    singular    things, 
things  lor  peculiar  seasons  and  extraor- 
dinary  circumstances.       Let    us    learn, 
and  let  us  remember,  that,  on  the  con- 
trary, they  may,  they  must,  he  of  every 
day  occurrence  ;  and   let  it  serve  to  ex- 
plain how  they  may  be  of  daily  occur- 
rence, that,  when   Christ   would  school 
his  disciples   to  face  the   perils  of  fid- 
lowing    Him    as    He    ascended    Mount 
Calvary,    lie   set  them   to  face  the   un- 
pleasantness of  following  a  man  hearing 
a  pitcher  of  water. 

But  there  is  more  than  this  to  he  said 
in   regard  of  the    complicated  way  in 


which   Christ  directed  his  disciples  to 
the   guest-chamber   where  He  had  de- 
termined   to  eat  the  last  supper.     He 
was  not  only  exercising  the  faith  of  the 
disciples,  by  sending  them  on  nn  errand 
which    seemed   unnecessarily   intricate, 
and  to  involve  great  exposure  to  insult 
and  repulse — He  was  giving  strong  evi- 
dence of  his  thorough  acquaintance  with 
every  thing  that  was  to  happen,  and  of 
his  power  over  the  minds  whether  oi 
strangers  or  of  friends.     In   proportion 
as  there  seemed  a  great  many  chances 
aqainst  the  right  room  being  found  by 
the  disciples,  was  the  proof,  as  you  must 
all  admit,  when  the  room  was  neverthe- 
less found,  that  the  prescience,  or  fore- 
knowledge, of  Christ   extended   to  mi- 
nute or  inconsiderable  particulars.  You 
must  consider  it  as  a  prophecy,  on  the 
part  of  Christ,  that  the   man  would  be 
met,  hearing  a  pitcher  of  water  ;   that, 
if  followed,   he  would   enter  the   light 
house  ;  that  the   master  of  this  house, 
on  being  asked   by  the  disciples,  would 
show  them  "  alar^e  upper-room  furnish- 
ed   and  prepared,"   where    they   might 
make  ready  for  the  eating  the  passover. 
But  it  was  a  prophecy  of  no   ordinary 
kind.     It  was  a  prophecy  which  seemed 
to  take  delight  in  putting  difficulties  in 
the  way  of  its  own  precise  accomplish- 
ment.    It  would  not  have  been  accom- 
plished by  the   mere  finding   the  house 
— it  would  have  been  defeated,  had  the 
house   been   found    through    any  other 
means  than  the  meeting  the  man,  or  had 
tin;  man  been    discovered   through   any 
other   sign   than    the  pitcher   of  water  : 
yea,  and   it  would   have   heen   defeated, 
defeated    in     the     details,    which   were 
given,   as   it   might  have    seemed,  with 
such  unnecessary   and  perilous  minute- 
ness,   if  the   master   of  the    house  had 
made  the  least  objection,  or  if  it  had  not 
heen  an   upper-room   which   he  showed 
the  disciples,   or  if  that  room   had   not 
heen  large,  or  if  it  had  not  been  furnish- 
ed and  prepared.     If  Christ  had  merely 
sent  the  disciples  to  a  particular  house, 
telling  them  that  they  would   there  find 
a  guest-chamber,  there  might,  or  there 
might   not    have    been   prophecy  ;    the 
master  of  the   house    might   have   been 
one   of  Christ's   adherents,    and   Christ 
might   previously   have  held  wiih  Him 
some  private  communication,  arranging 
for  the  celebration  of  the  passover.  But 
our  Lord    put    it    beyond    controversy 


THE  FINDING  THE  GUEST-CHAMBER. 


25 


that  there  was  no  pre-arranged  scheme, 
but  that  He  was  distinctly  exercising 
his  own  prophetic  power,  by  making 
the  whole  thing  turn  on  the  meeting  a 
man  with  a  pitcher  of  water.  For 
though  you  may  say  that  this  might 
have  been  part  of  a  plot  or  confederacy, 
our  Lord  having  agreed  with  the  house- 
holder that  his  servant  should  be  stand- 
ing, with  a  particular  burden,  at  a  par- 
ticular place,  and  at  a  particular  time, 
yet,  surely,  on  the  least  reflection,  you 
must  allow  that  no  sagacious  person, 
who  had  thought  it  worth  while  to  make 
a  plot  at  all,  would  have  made  one  so 
likely  to  be  defeated — for  what  more 
likely  than  that,  in  the  streets  of  a 
crowded  city,  several  persons  would  be 
met,  about  the  same  time,  with  so  com- 
mon a  thing  as  a  pitcher  of  water?  or 
than  that  the  disciples,  loitering  a  little 
on  the  road,  or  going  a  different  way, 
would  just  miss  the  encounter  on  which 
the  whole  thing  depended  "? 

The  supposition  of  any  thing  of  plot, 
or  confederacy,  is  excluded  by  the  com- 
monness of  the  specified  occurrences  ; 
and  then,  on  the  other  hand,  this  very 
commonness  should  serve  to  make  what 
must  have  been  prophecy  all  the  more 
wonderful ;  for  to  be  able  to  foresee, 
with  most  perfect  distinctness,  that  the 
man  would  be  met,  that  the  disciples 
would  follow  the  right  person,  that  they 
would  be  taken  to  the  right  house,  that 
they  would  be  shown  the  right  room — 
nay,  you  may  speak  of  the  marvellous- 
ness  of  foreseeing  an  empire's  rise,  or 
an  empire's  fall  ;  but  there  might  really 
be  greater  scope  for  the  keen  conjec- 
ture, or  the  sagacious  guess,  of  a  far- 
sighted  man,  in  the  probable  revolutions 
of  states,  than  in  the  pitcher  of  water, 
and  the  furnished  guest-chamber. 

And  whatever  tended  to  prove  to  the 
disciples  their  Master's  thorough  ac- 
quaintance  with  every  future  contin- 
gency, ought  to  have  tended  to  the  pre- 
paring them  for  the  approaching  days 
of  disaster  and  separation.  For  how 
could  they  think  that  any  thing,  which 
was  about  to  happen  to  Christ,  would 
happen  by  chance,  without  having  been 
accurately  foreknown  by  Him,  and  fore- 
ordained, when  He  showed  that  his  pile- 
science  extended  to  such  inconsiderable 
particulars  as  were  involved  in  the  er- 
rand on  which  they  had  been  sent? 
And  what  right  had  they  to  be  stagger- 


I  ed  by  what  befel  Christ,  if  nothing  be- 
fel  Him  which  He  had  not  expected, 
and  for  which  He  had  not  provided  1 
If  He  foresavvthe  man  with  the  pitcher, 
He  must  have  foreseen  Himself  with 
the  cross — and  surely,  if  He  thoroughly 
foreknew  what  was  coming  upon  Him, 
this  very  circumstance  should  have  suf- 
ficed to  prove  Him  more  than  human; 
and,  if  more  than  human,  what  was 
there  to  be  staggered  at  in  the  shame 
of  his  cross  1 

Besides,  it  was  beautifully  adapted  to 
the  circumstances  of  the  disciples,  that 
Christ  showed  that  his    foreknowledge 
extended    to    trifles.       These    disciples 
were  likely  to  imagine,  that,  being  poor 
and  mean  persons,  they  should  be  over- 
looked by  Christ,  when  separated  from 
them,   and,    perhaps,   exalted   to  glory. 
And  the  showing  them  that  his  eye  was 
on  the   movements  of  the  Roman  gov- 
ernor, or  on  the  secret  gatherings  of  the 
1  hansees,   would  not  have  sufficed  to 
prevent,   or  destroy,  this    imagination; 
for  Pilate  and   the   Pharisees  occupied 
prominent  places,  and  might  be  expected 
to  fix   Christ's   attention.     But  that  his 
eye   was   threading    the    crowded    tho- 
roughfares of  the  city,  that  it  was  noting 
a  servant   with  a  pitcher  of  water,  ob- 
serving accurately  when  this  servant  left 
his  master's  house,  when  he  reached  the 
well,  and  when  he  would  be  at  a  parti- 
cular spot  on  his  way  back — ah,  this  was 
not   merely  wonderful   foreknowledge; 
this    was  foreknowledge  applying  itself 
to  the  insignificant  and  unknown  :  Peter 
and  John  might  have  obtained  little  com- 
fort from  Christ's  proving  to  them  that 
He  watched  a  Caesar  on  the  throne;  but 
it  ought  to  have  been  surprisingly  cheer- 
ing to  them,  his  proving  that  He  watch- 
ed a  poor  slave  at  the  fountain. 

Then,  again,  observe  that  whatever 
power  was  here  put  forth  by  Christ,  was 
put  forth  without  his  being  in  contact 
with  the  party  on  whom  it  was  exerted. 
Had  He  gone  Himself  to  the  house- 
holder, and  in  person  demanded  the  ac- 
commodation which  He  needed,  the  re- 
sult might  have  been  ascribed  to  his 
presence ;  there  was  no  resisting,  it 
might  have  been  said,  one  whose  word 
was  always  "  with  power.'?  Whereas, 
the  householder  surrendered  his  pro- 
perty on  the  strength  of  the  message, 
"  The  Master  saith,"  as  the  owners  had 
surrendered  the  ass  and  the  colt,  on  be- 


26 


THE  FINDING  THE  GUEST-CHAMBER. 


ins:  told,  "  The  Lord  hath  need  of  them." 
Christ  acted,  that  is,  ujion  parties  who 
were  at  a  distance  from  Him,  thus  giv- 
ing incontrovertible  proof,  that  his  visi- 
ble presence  was  not  necessary  in  order 
to  the  exercise  of  his  power.  What  a 
comfort  should  this  have  been  to  the 
disciples,  informing  and  assuring  them 
that  Christ's  removal  from  them  would 
in  no  degree  interfere  with  his  protec- 
tion and  guardianship  ;  if  from  Bethany 
Christ  could  make  the  householder  in 
Jerusalem  throw  open  his  guest-cham- 
ber, Peter  might  have  learnt  that,  from 
heaven,  Christ  could  make  the  prison- 
doors  fly  open  for  his  escape. 

Were  not  then  all  the  details  of  the 
errand  before  us,  even  when  you  leave 
out  the  exercise  of  the  faith  of  the  dis- 
ciples, every  way  worthy  of  the  wisdom 
and  goodness  of  our  Lord,  expressive 
of  his  tender  consideration  for  the  cir- 
cumstances of  his  followers,  and  of  his 
desire  to  afford  them  the  instruction  and 
encouragement  which  might  best  fit 
them  for  coming  duties  and  trials  '?  In- 
deed, it  is  easy  to  imagine  how,  when 
his  death  was  near  at  hand,  Christ  might 
have  wrought  miracles,  and  uttered  pro- 
phecies, more  august  in  their  character, 
and  more  adapted  to  the  excitement  of 
amazement  and  awe.  He  might  have 
darkened  the  air  with  portents  and  pro- 
digies, and  have  brought  up  from  the 
future  magnificent  processions  of  thrones 
and  principalities.  But  there  would  not 
have  been,  in  these  gorgeous  or  appal- 
ling displays,  the  sort  of  evidence  which 
was  needed  by  disquieted  and  dispirited 
men,  whose  meanness  suggested  to  them 
a  likelihood  of  their  being  overlooked, 
and  who,  expecting  to  be  separated  from 
their  Master,  might  fear  that  the  sepa- 
ration would  remove  them  from  his  care. 
And  this  evidence,  the  evidence  that 
Jesus  had  his  eye  on  those  whom  the 
world  might  neglect  or  despise,  and 
that  He  did  not  require  to  be  visibly 
present,  whether  to  keep  down  an  enemy 
or  support  a  friend — ah,  this  was  given, 
so  that  the  disciples  might  have  taken 
it,  in  all  its  preciousness,  to  themselves, 
when  every  thing  came  to  pass  which 
had  been  involved  in  or  indicated  by  the 
directions,  "  Co  ye  into  the  city,  and 
there  shall  meet  you  a  man  bearing  a 
pitcher  of  water:  follow  him.  And 
wheresoever  he  shall  go  in,  say  ye  to 
the  good  man  of  the  house,  The  Mas-  j 


ter  saith,  Where  is  the  guest-chamber, 
where  I  shall  eat  the  passover  with  my 
disciples  V 

And  should  we  be  warranted  in  as- 
signing any  thing  of  a  more  typical  or 
symbolical  meaning  to  the  directions 
which  were  thus  issued  by  our  Lord  1 
Indeed,  in  so  doing,  we  should  not  be 
without  the  sanction  of  eminent  inter- 
preters, whilst  the  accuracy  and  beauty 
of  the  type  must  readily  commend  them- 
selves to  every  thoughtful  mind.  It  was 
not  for  the  mere  purpose  of  celebrating 
the  passover  that  our  blessed  Lord 
sought  a  guest-chamber  where  He  might 
eat  his  last  supper  with  his  disciples. 
Then  and  there  was  He  to  institute  that 
commemorative,  that  sacrificial  rite,  in 
and  through  which  the  Church,  in  all 
ages,  was  to  feed  on  his  body,  and 
drink  of  his  precious  blood.  The  sup- 
per was  to  be  concluded  by  his  taking 
bread,  and  blessing  it  into  the  sacra- 
mental representative  of  his  flesh,  wine 
into  the  sacramental  representative  of 
his  blood  ;  and  by  the  issuing  of  a  so- 
lemn injunction  that  the  like  should  ever 
after  be  done  in  devout  remembrance 
of  Himself.  Thus,  in  that  guest-cham- 
ber, was  the  feast  on  the  paschal  lamb 
to  be  virtually  abolished  ;  but  only  that 
there  might  be  ordained  in  its  stead  a 
profounder  and  more  pregnant  mystery, 
the  feast  on  the  true  Paschal  Lamb,  par- 
taking of  which  the  faithful,  to  the  end 
of  time,  might  apprehend  and  appropri- 
ate the  benefits  of  the  all-sufficient  sa- 
crifice for  the  sins  of  the  world. 

But  the  sacrament  of  the  body  and 
blood  of  our  blessed  Redeemer  is  for 
those  only  who  have  been  duly  initiated 
by  the  sacrament  of  baptism  into  the 
visible  Church.  It  is  not  the  initiatory 
sacrament,  not  that  through  which  we 
are  first  grafted  into  Christ,  and  made 
members  of  his  mystical  body  ;  but  that 
through  which,  having  by  another  ordi- 
nance been  born  ag-iin,  and  received 
into  the  family  of  God,  we  are  kept  in 
that  holy  fellowship,  and  nurtured  up  to 
everlasting  life.  Hence  the  one  sacra- 
ment, whose  outward  sign  is  water,  is  pre- 
paratory to  the  other  sacrament,  whose 
outward  part  or  sign  is  bread  and  wine; 
and  it  were,  indeed,  the  most  perilous 
invasion  of  fhe  highest  privilege  of 
Christians,  were  any,  who  had  not  keen 
washed  in  the  laver  of  regeneration,  to 
intrude  themselves  at  that  table  where, 


THE  FINDING  THE   GUEST-CHAMBER. 


27 


in  awful  remembrance,  and  effectual  sig- 
nificance, there  is  distributed  that  flesh 
which  is  meat  indeed,  and  that  blood 
which  is  drink  indeed. 

But  was  not  all  this,  in  a  measure, 
shadowed  out — or,  if  not  intentionally 
shadowed  out,  may  it  not  be  lawfully 
traced — in  Christ's  directions  to  his  dis- 
ciples on  which  we  have  discoursed  I 
How  were  the  disciples  to  find  out  the 
guest-chamber  1  By  following  a  man 
"bearing  a  pitcher  of  water."  The 
water  was,  it  as  were,  to  lead  them  into 
the  guest-chamber,  the  chamber  where 
they  were  to  find  the  body  and  blood  of 
their  Lord.  You  may  pronounce  this 
nothing  but  an  accidental  coincidence, 
if,  indeed,  you  will  presume  to  speak 
of  any  thing  as  accidental,  undesigned, 
and  insiguificant,  in  the  actions  and  ap- 
pointments of  Christ.  But  we  cannot 
help  counting  the  coincidence  too  exact, 
and  too  definite,  to  have  not  been  in- 
tended— at  least,  if  we  may  not  use  it  in 
confirmation,  we  may  in  illustration  of 
a  doctrine.  The  disciples,  indeed,  may 
have  attached  no  symbolical  meaning  to 
the  pitcher  of  water  :  they  were  in  quest 
only  of  a  room  in  which  to  eat  the  pass- 
over,  and  knew  nothing  of  the  solemn 
rite  about  to  be  instituted.  Hence,  to 
them  there  would  be  nothing  in  the 
pitcher  of  water,  but  a  mark  by  which 
to  know  into  what  house  to  enter.  But 
to  ourselves,  who  are  looking  for  the 
guest-chamber,  not  as  the  place  where 
the  paschal  lamb  may  be  eaten,  but  as 
that  where  Christ  is  to  give  of  his  own 
body  and  blood,  the  pitcher  of  water 
may  well  serve  as  a  memento  that  it  is 
baptism  which  admits  us  into  Christian 
privileges,  that  they,  who  find  a  place 
at  the  supper  of  the  Lord,  must  have 
met  the  man  with  the  water,  and  have 


|  followed  that  man — must  have  been  pre- 
sented to  the  minister  of  the  Church, 
and  have  received  from  him  the  ini- 
tiatory sacrament ;  and  then  have  sub- 
mitted meekly  to  the  guidance  of  the 
Church,  till  introduced  to  those  deeper 
recesses  of  the  sanctuary,  where  Christ 
spreads  his  rich  banquet  for  such  as  call 
upon  his  name. 

Thus  may  there  have  been,  in  the  di- 
rections for  finding  the  guest-chamber, 
a  standing  intimation  of  the  process 
thro'uffh  which  should  be  sought  an  en- 
trance  to  that  upper  room,  where  Christ 
and  his  members  shall  finally  sit  down, 
that  they  may  eat  together  at  the  mar- 
riage supper.  For  the  communion  of 
the  body  and  blood  of  the  Redeemer  is 
itself  to  "show  forth  the  Lord's  death" 
only  "  till  He  come,"  and  shall  give 
place,  as  the  passover  gave  place  to  it, 
to  a  richer  banquet,  in  a  yet  highei 
apartment  of  the  heavenly  kingdom 
That  apartment,  too,  like  the  upper 
room  in  Jerusalem,  is  large,  and  fur- 
nished, and  prepared — large  enough  to 
admit  us  all,  furnished  and  prepared  with 
whatsoever  can  minister  to  happiness. 
And  having  been  admitted  by  baptism 
into  the  Church  below,  having  sought 
continued  supplies  of  grace  in  the  upper 
room,  at  the  altar  where  the  Master  is 
"  evidently  set  forth,  crucified  among  " 
us — ay,  having  thus,  in  the  simplicity  of 
faith  and  obedience,  submitted  ourselves 
to  Christ's  ordinances,  because  they  are 
his  ordinances,  as  did  the  disciples  to  his 
directions,  because  they  were  his  direc- 
tions, we  may  humbly  hope  to  pass  here- 
after into  that  yet  loftier  abode — more 
truly  "  the  large  upper  room  " — where 
Christ  shall  everlastingly  give  his  peo- 
ple of  his  fulness,  and  make  them  drink 
of  his  pleasures  as  out  of  a  river. 


28 


THE  SPECTRE  S  SERMON  A  TRUISM. 


SERMON    IV. 


THE  SPECTRE'S  SERMON  A  TRUISM. 


"  Then  a  spirit  passed  before  my  face  ;  the  hair  of  my  flesh  stood  up :  It  stood  still,  but  I  could  not  discern  the  form 
thereof:  an  image  was  before  mine  eyes,  there  was  silence,  and  I  heard  a  voice,  saying, Shall  mortal  maa  be  more 
just  than  God  .'     shall  a  man  be  more  pure  than  his  Maker?  " — Job  iv.  15,  1C,  17. 


Every  one  must,  of  course,  be  aware 
that,  whilst  the  Bible  is  throughout  to 
be  implicitly  depended  on,  as  neither 
recording  historically  anything  but  facts, 
nor  delivering  didactically  anything  but 
truths,  it  does  not  follow  that  every  pas- 
sage may,  in  the  strictest  sense,  be  taken 
as  the  word  of  God.  In  the  historical 
parts  of  Scripture,  the  sayings,  as  well 
as  the  actions  of  various  persons  are  re- 
gistered ;  and  whilst  in  many  instances 
the  actions  are  such  as  God  did  not  ap- 
prove, in  others  the  sayings  are  such  as 
He  did  not  inspire. 

It  does  not  then  follow,  that,  because 
words  arc  found  in  the  Bible,  they  may 
be  taken  as  announcing  some  truth  on 
which  the  preacher  may  safely  proceed 
to  discourse.  They  may  be  the  words 
of  a  man  in  whom  the  Spirit  of  God  did 
not  dwell,  of  a  heathen  whose  creed  was 
falsehood,  or  of  a  blasphemer  who  de- 
spised all  authority.  In  such  cases,  what 
is  termed  the  inspiration  of  Scripture 
warrants  nothing  but  the  faithfulness  of 
the  record  :  we  are  sure  that  the  sayings 
set  down  were  actually  uttered  :  the  pen 
of  the  historian  was  guided  by  God's 
Spirit,  but  only  in  regard  of  the  strict 
office  ot  the  historian,  that,  of  registering 
with  accuracy  certain  occurrences.  And, 
of  course,  if  the  inspiration  extend  only 
to  the  man  who  records,  and  not  to  him 
who  utters  a  saying,  the  saying  itself 
may  not  be  necessarily  truth,  though  l  lie 
Bible  itself  undividcdly  is.  In  the  ma- 
jority of  instances,  indeed,  we  doubt  not 
that  the;  two  things  concur — the  speaker 
was  directed  what  to  say,  as  well  as  the 
historian  what  to  record — or  rather,  by 


directing  the  historian  to  insert  certain 
sayings  in  his  book,  the  Spirit  of  God 
may  be  considered  as  having  appropri- 
ated those  sayings,  and  given  them  in  a 
measure  the  stamp  of  his  approval. 

We  here  speak  especially  of  the  say- 
ings of  holy  men  of  old.  It  would 
not,  of  course,  be  easy  to  show — nay, 
we  do  not  suppose  it  to  be  true — that, 
in  all  which  the  saints,  whether  of  the 
old  or  the  new  dispensation,  are  record- 
ed to  have  said,  we  may  look  for  the  ut- 
terances of  men  immediately  and  literally 
inspired.  But,  nevertheless,  we  think 
that,  in  preserving  their  sayings,  and 
causing  them  to  be  transmitted  to  all  fu- 
ture days,  the  Spirit  of  God  has  so  far 
sanctioned  them  by  his  authority,  that 
they  should  be  received  by  us  with  much 
of  that  reverence  which  is  due  to  express 
and  explicit  revelation. 

We  make  these  general  remarks,  be- 
cause our  text  is  the  utterance  of  an  in- 
dividual for  whom  we  cannot  perhaps 
claim,  on  indubitable  testimony,  that  he 
spake  by  the  Spirit  of  God.  It  is  Eli- 
phaz  the  Temanite  who  speaks,  one  of 
those  three  friends  of  the  afflicted  Pa- 
triarch Job,  who  "had  made  an  appoint- 
ment together  to  come  to  mourn  with 
him  and  to  comfort  him,"  but  who  vir- 
tually did  little  but  upbraid  the  sufferer, 
aggravating  his  griefs  by  injurious  sus- 
picions, and  false  accusations.  We  are 
naturally  so  disposed  to  feel  angry  with 
men  who  dealt,  to  all  appearance,  so 
harshly  with  one  whose  sorrow  and  pa- 
tience should  have  secured  him  the  most 
tender  sympathy,  that  it  would  not  be 
difficult  to  persuade  ourselves  that  their 


THE   SPECTRE  S   SERMON  A  TRUISM. 


29 


discourses  are  not  to  be  taken  as  part 
and  parcel  of  the  inspired  Scripture. 
But  we  are  able  to  show,  by  a  simple 
yet  incontestable  proof,  that,  if  the  Spirit 
of  God  did  not  inspire  these  men,  He 
has  given  to  their  sayings,  by  placing 
them  within  the  inspired  volume,  much 
of  the  weight  which  his  own  dictation 
must  always  impart. 

There  is  probably  but  one  distinct 
quotation  in  the  New  Testament  from 
the  Book  of  Job.  St.  James,  indeed, 
refers  generally  to  the  history  of  Job, 
but  he  does  not  adduce  any  words  from 
the  narrative.  St.  Paul,  however,  in  his 
first  Epistle  to  the  Corinthians,  lias 
quoted  from  the  Book,  and  that  too, 
with  the  form,  "  it  is  written,"  which 
always  serves,  in  the  New  Testament, 
to  mark  what  is  quoted  as  part  of  Holy 
Scripture,  strictly  so  called.  In  order 
to  prove  his  proposition,  "  For  the  wis- 
dom of  this  world  is  foolishness  with 
God,"  St.  Paul  states,  "  For  it  is  writ- 
ten, He  taketh  the  wise  in  their  own 
craftiness."  Now  it  is  in  the  Book  of 
Job  that  these  words  are  written;  and 
the  observable  thing  is,  that  they  are 
not  words  uttered  by  Job  himself,  but 
by  that  very  person,  Eliphaz  the  Te- 
manite,  who  also  delivers  the  words  of 
our  text.  We  have,  therefore,  what 
amounts  to  conclusive  evidence,  that, 
whatever  at  times  the  injustice  and  false  ; 
reasoning  of  Eliphaz,  the  Spirit  of  God  j 
employed  him,  even  as  He  afterwards 
did  Balaam,  in  delivering  truths  for  the  | 
instruction  of  the  world. 

We  have  desired  to  make  this  clear 
to  you,  before  entering  expressly  on  the 
examination  of  the  text,  because  we  j 
wished  to  guard  against  any  suspicion, 
that  we  might  be  laying  too  much  stress 
on  a  passage  for  which  we  could  not 
claim  the  full  authority  that  belongs 
to  what  the  Holy  Ghost  has  indited. 
Though,  indeed,  if  we  could  not  thus 
vindicate,  in  general,  the  inspired  cha- 
racterof  the  utterances  of  Eliphaz,  there 
would  be  little  room  for  doubting,  that, 
in  the  particular  instance  which  has  to 
come  under  review,  this  Temanite  spake 
by  the  direction  of  God.  He  recounts 
a  vision ;  he  records  words  which  were 
mysteriously  brought  to  him  amid  the 
deep  silence  of  the  night ;  and  if  we 
could  not  carry  further  our  confidence 
in  what  he  said,  we  might,  at  least,  be 
sure  that  what  he  affirmed  had  actually 


taken  place,  and  that  words,  which  he 
quoted  as    delivered   to   him  by  an  un- 
earthly voice,  had  indeed  been  breathed 
in  so  startling  and  impressive  a  maimer. 
On  every  account,  therefore,  we  can 
plead  for  our  text  as  having  all  that  claim 
on  your  reverential  attention  which  be- 
longs to  inspiration  in  its  highest  degree. 
Come,   then,  with  us  ;  and  as  Eliphaz 
records  what  he  saw,  and  what  he  heard, 
attend  as  you  would  to  the   utterances 
of  a  messenger  from  the  invisible  world. 
We  do  not  want  to  make  the  blood  run 
cold,  nor  to  thrill   you  with    a  strange 
and  undefinable  dread.     But,  neverthe- 
less, we  would  use  the  wild  and  awful 
circumstances  of  the  vision  to  give  so- 
lemnity to  the  truth  which  is  brought  to 
our  notice  ;  for  it  may  be  that  with  you, 
as  with  Eliphaz,  there  will  be  a  listen- 
ing with  greater  abstraction  and  intense- 
ness  of  feeling,  if  it  be  from  a  dim  and 
flitting  image,  and  after  a  deep  porten- 
tous silence,  that  you  hear  the  questions 
asked,   "  Shall  mortal  man  be  more  just 
than  God  ?  shall  a  man  be    moi'e  pure 
than  his  maker  ?  " 

Now  there  can  be  no  dispute  that  we 
have,  in  the  narrative  of  Eliphaz,  the  ac- 
count of  an  apparition  :  a  purely  spirit- 
ual being,  such  as  an  angel,  assumed  a 
visible  though  indescribable  form,  and 
stood  before  Eliphaz  in  the  stillness  of 
the  night.  It  is  generally  regarded  as 
proof  of  a  weak  and  superstitious  mind, 
to  put  faith  in  what  are  termed  ghost 
stories,  tales  of  apparitions,  whether  of 
the  dead,  or  of  unknown  visitants  from 
the  spiritual  world.  But  we  do  not  see 
why  so  much  of  scepticism  and  ridicule 
should  be  afloat  on  the  matter  of  alleged 
apparitions.  We  see  nothing,  whether 
in  the  statements  of  Scripture,  or  the 
deductions  of  reason,  from  which  to  de- 
cide that  there  cannot  be  apparitions  ; 
that  the  invisible  state  may  never  com- 
municate with  the  visible  through  the 
instrumentality  of  phantoms,  strange  and 
boding  forms  that  are  manifestly  not  of 
this  earth.  And  if  you  cannot  show, 
either  from  revelation,  or  from  the  na- 
ture of  things,  that  apparitions  are  im- 
possible, of  course  the  truth  or  falsehood 
of  any  alleged  case  is  simply  dependent 
on  testimony — no  amount  of  testimony 
could  make  me  believe  that  a  known 
impossibility  had  taken  place;  but  any 
thing  short  of  a  known  impossibility 
might   be   substantiated   by    evidence ; 


30 


THE  SPECTRE'S  SERMON  A  TRUISM. 


and  cei-tainly,  therefore,  an  apparition 
may  be  substantiated,  for  no  one  will 
ever  prove  the  actual  impossibility. 
There  may  easily  be  a  weak  and  fond 
credulity  in  regard  of  ghosts  and  appa- 
ritions ;  but  there  may  be  also,  we  be- 
lieve, a  cold  and  hard  scepticism  :  and 
knowing  how  thin  is  the  vail  which 
hangs  between  the  visible  and  invisible 
worlds,  and  how  transparent  that  vail  is 
to  spiritual  beings,  though  impervious 
to  mortal  sight,  it  might  be  better  for  us 
to  be  classed  with  the  credulous — if  it 
be  credulity  to  yield  on  sufficient  testi- 
mony— than  with  those  who  are  too  en- 
lightened to  be  superstitious,  if  super- 
stition be  the  thinking  that  God,  for  wise 
purposes,  may  sometimes  draw  aside 
the  vail,  or  make  it  transparent  on  this 
side  as  well  as  on  the  other. 

Neither  should  we  wonder  if  much 
of  that  dogged  resistance,  which  is  op- 
posed to  the  best  authenticated  narra- 
tives of  apparitions,  may  be  traced  to 
men's  repugnance  to  the  being  brought 
into  contact  with  the  invisible  world. 
They  instinctively  sin-ink  from  commu- 
nion with  a  state,  which  their  irrepressi- 
ble fears  j^eo-pta  with  dark  and  fitful 
imagery  ;  and  it  is,  therefore,  with  them 
a  sort  of  self-defence,  to  take  refuge  in 
a  thorough  scorn  of  the  possibility,  that 
spirits,  which  are  verily  around  them, 
might  assume  human  shape,  and  become 
on  a  sudden  visible  and  vocal. 

It  is  moreover  worth  observing,  that 
the  Bible,  so  far  from  discountenancing 
the  notion  of  apparitions,  may  be  said 
to  give  it  the  weight  of  its  testimony, 
and  that  too  in  more  than  one  instance. 
We  have  already  remarked  that  no  more 
thorough  case  of  apparition  can  be  even 
imagined,  than  is  put  upon  record  in  the 
narrative  of  Eliphaz.  You  could  not 
find,  in  the  most  marvellous  of  ghost 
stories,  more  of  supernatural  demonstra- 
tion, nor  more  of  that  paralyzing  effect, 
which,  ever  since  sin  separated  between 
man  and  God,  appears  produced,  even 
on  the  best,  by  visitations  from  the  spi- 
ritual world.  The  passing  of  the  spirit 
before  the  face  of  Eliphaz  ;  the  stand- 
ing up  of  the  hair  of  his  flesh  ;  the  in- 
distinctness, yet  truth  of  the  image,  so 
that  no  straining  of  the  eye  could  make 
the  form  definite,  nor  any  cause  it  to  dis- 
perse; and  then,  after  a  solemn  pause, 
the  deep  oracular  voice,  burdened  with 
weighty  question — why,  there  is  nothing 


in  any  book,  whether  of  fiction  or  fact, 
which  takes  greater  hold  on  the  imagi- 
nation, or  more  exquisitely  portrays 
what  might  be  supposed  a  case  of  ap- 
parition. If  every  subsequent  tale  of 
supernatural  appearance  be  invention 
or  fable,  at  least  the  fable  is  modelled 
after  a  true  story ;  and  we  should  have 
Scripture  from  which  to  prove  that  there 
might  come  an  apparation,  if  we  had  no 
human  record  whatsoever  that  any  had 
been  seen. 

Besides — for  it  might  with  some 
justice  be  said  that  what  happened  in 
early  days,  when  revelation  was  scant, 
and  God  supplied  the  want  by  immedi- 
ate intercourse,  ou^ht  not  to  be  taken 
in  proof  of  what  may  happen  in  later — 
if  you  observe  what  is  recorded  of  the 
apostles  of  Christ,  you  will  find  that  the 
notion  of  apparitions  was  not  only  com- 
monly entertained,  but  that  it  passed 
unrebuked  by  our  Savior  Himself. 
When  Christ  approached  his  disciples, 
walking  on  the  sea,  we  read,  "  They 
were  troubled,  saying,  It  is  a  spirit,  and 
they  cried  out  for  fear."  They  evident- 
ly supposed  that  there  might  be  an  ap- 
parition, that  a  spirit  might  assume  hu- 
man form ;  and  though  you  may  say 
that  this  arose  only  from  the  ignorance 
and  superstition  of  the  disciples,  it  is, 
at  least,  observable  that  our  Lord  pro- 
ceeded immediately  to  quiet  their  ap- 
prehensions, but  not  to  correct  their 
mistake — "  Be  of  good  cheer  ;  it  is  I ; 
be  not  afraid." 

On  the  occasion,  moreover,  of  his 
own  Resurrection,  he  gave  yet  stronger 
countenance  to  the  notion  that  spirits 
might  appear.  When  he  stood  sudden- 
ly in  the  midst  of  the  assembled  disci- 
ples, having  entered  the  chambers  though 
the  doors  were  closed,  "  they  were  ter- 
rified and  affrighted,  and  supposed  that 
they  had  seen  a  spirit."  That  Christ 
should  have  obtained  admission,  not- 
withstanding the  barred  entrance,  was 
a  similar  phenomenon  to  his  treading 
the  waters  as  though  they  had  been  a 
solid  pavement ;  and  the  disciples  took 
refuge  in  the  same  supposition,  that  it 
was  no  human  being,  such  as  one  of 
themselves,  but  a  spectral  thing,  which 
could  thus  set  at  nought  the  laws  to 
which  matter  is  subject.  And  though 
it  does  not  appear  that,  on  this  occasion, 
they  expressed  their  apprehensions, 
Christ  knew  their  thoughts,  and  at  once 


THE  SPECTRE  S  SERMON  A  TRUISM. 


took  pains  to  show  them  their  error. 
But  how  I  not  by  saying,  there  are  no 
such  things  as  apparitions,  and  you  are 
weak,  and  ignorant,  in  imagining  that 
spirits  ever  take  form,  and  come  amongst 
men — which  is  just  what  might  have 
been  expected  from  our  Lord,  the  great 
teacher  of  the  world,  had  there  been  an 
error  to  correct — but  by  showing  that  He 
Himself  could  not  be  a  spirit,  forasmuch 
as  He  had  all  the  attributes  and  acci- 
dents of  a  body.  "  Behold  my  hands 
and  my  feet,  that  it  is  I  myself;  handle 
me  and  see  ;  for  a  spirit  hath  not  flesh 
and  bones,  as  ye  see  me  have."  We 
can  hardly  think  that  our  Lord  would 
thus  have  given  a  criterion,  as  it  were, 
for  distinguishing  a  spirit  or  an  appari- 
tion, were  it  indeed  only  the  fable  or 
fancy  of  the  credulous,  that  the  tenant- 
ry of  the  invisible  world  may  occasion- 
ally be  sent  by  God  with  messages  to 
man,  or  that  the  grave  may,  to  all  ap- 
pearance, give  back  its  inhabitants  for 
the  disclosure  of  foul  deeds,  or  the 
warning  of  tke  living. 

Of  this  only  may  we  be  persuaded, 
that  it  would  not  be  on  any  trivial  or  or- 
dinary occasion  that  God  drew  the  vail, 
and  commissioned  spiritual  beings  to 
appear  upon  earth.  In  some  great  crisis, 
whether  to  nations  or  to  individuals,  He 
might  see  fit  to  convey  intimations 
through  the  agency  of  a  spectre,  em- 
ploying supernatural  machinery  to  give 
warning  of  a  coming  catastrophe,  to 
prepare  a  people  for  battle,  or  a  sinner 
for  dissolution.  The  rich  man,  whilst 
he  tossed  on  the  fires  of  hell,  imagined 
that  if  the  dead  Lazarus  were  permitted 
to  revisit  the  earth,  and  to  appear 
amongst  his  brethren  in  the  midst  of 
their  carelessness  and  revelry,  the  effect 
would  be  to  stir  them  to  repentance, 
and  so  prevent  their  joining  him  in  his 
place  of  deep  torment.  And  therefore 
did  He  passionately  beseech  that  the 
apparition  might  be  sent,  and  that  the 
beggar  might  stand  before  his  dissolute 
kinsmen  in  the  startling  form  of  one 
risen  from  the  grave.  The  request  was 
denied :  but  it  was  not  denied  on  the 
principle  that  the  case  was  not  one  for 
supernatural  interference,  but  on  the 
reason  that  they,  who  could  resist  the 
teaching  of  Moses  and  the  prophets, 
would  remain  unpersuaded  by  the  warn- 
ings of  a  spirit. 

It  was  the  sort  of  case  in  which  we 


might  look  for  the  apparition,  so  far  as 
its  importance  was  concerned.  But  it 
is  not  God's  method,  to  employ  extra- 
ordinary means,  when  ordinary  ought 
to  have  sufficed ;  and,  therefore,  they 
who  yield  not  to  the  ministrations  of  the 
Gospel,  and  are  not  warned  by  daily 
judgments  and  occurrences,  must  not 
think  to  have  the  silences  of  the  mid- 
night broken  by  a  mysterious  voice,  nor 
the  solitude  of  the  chamber  invaded  by 
a  boding  spectre,  in  order  to  their  being 
compelled  to  give  heed  to  religion.  It 
is  not  that  there  might  not  be  wrought, 
in  many  instances,  a  beneficial  and  per- 
manent effect  on  the  careless  and  im- 
penitent, through  the  medium  of  an  ap- 
parition. For  though  in  the  parable,  to 
which  we  have  referred,  it  is  stated  that 
they,  who  heard  not  Moses  and  the 
prophets,  would  not  "  be  persuaded 
though  one  rose  from  the  dead ;  "  this 
can  only  be  understood  of  such  as  have 
listened  to  Moses  and  the  prophets,  and 
remained  unconvinced  :  there  is  yet  a 
vast  number,  even  in  a  land  flooded  with 
the  light  of  revelation,  who  can  hardly 
be  said  to  be  cognizant  of  the  Gospel ; 
and,  very  possibly,  upon  these  the  spec- 
tral messenger  would  produce  great  ef- 
fect; though,  forasmuch  as  their  igno- 
ranee  of  the  Gospel  may  be  traced  to 
their  own  negligence  and  wilfulness,  it 
is  not  to  be  expected,  that,  on  their  be- 
half, shall  graves  be  depopulated,  and 
wild  unearthly  phantoms  make  the  night 
terrible. 

Still  the  general  proposition  remains, 
that,  if  ever  the  vail  which  God  hath 
hung  between  the  visible  and  the  invisi- 
ble  world  be  withdrawn,  so  that,  in 
shape  and  bearing  discernible  by  man, 
a  spirit  cross  the  separating  line,  it  must 
be  on  some  great  and  mighty  occasion, 
when  an  awful  truth  is  to  be  delivered, 
or  a  dread  event  foretold.  And  if  any 
thing  can  give  solemnity  to  a  message, 
any  thing  persuade  us  of  its  being  the 
announcement  of  something  deep  and 
momentous,  it  must  be  its  being  breath- 
ed from  spectral  lips  ;  or  that,  in  agree- 
ment with  the  thrilling  words  which  the 
ghost  of  Samuel  used  to  Saul  in  the 
cave  of  the  enchantress,  one  of  the  dead 
hath  been  disquieted  that  he  might  bring 
the  communication.  Come  then,  we 
again  say,  it  must  be  a  vast  and  startling 
truth  which  we  have  to  lay  before  you : 
it  would  not  otherwise  have  been  con- 


32 


THE  SPECTRE  S   SERMON  A  TRUISM. 


veyed  through  the  ministry  of  a  spectre  : 
there  would  not  otherwise  have  been 
need  of*  an  express  revelation,  and  that, 
too, by  the  voice  (if  a  flitting  figure,  whose 
pale  and  shadowy  form  caused  the  hair 
of  the  spectator's  flesh  to  stand  up.  If 
there  be  deep  words  in  Scripture,  or 
words  to  which  we  require  extraordi- 
nary testimony,  surely  they  must  be 
those,  which,  in  departure  from  all  com- 
mon course,  God  sent  a  spirit  to  utter — 
and  thus  it  was  that  these  questions 
were  breathed,  "  Shall  mortal  man  be 
more  just  than  God.'  shall  a  man  be 
more  pure  than  his  Maker]  " 

And  here  we  bring  you  to  the  point 
which  appears  to  us  to  require  the  being 
closely  examined.  It  is  very  certain, 
that,  on  reading  the  account  of  the  ap- 
parition which  stood  before  Eliphaz — 
an  apparition  so  mysteriously  terrible, 
that  he  declares,  in  the  verse  preceding 
our  text,  "  Fear  came  upon  me,  and 
trembling,  which  made  all  my  bones  to 
shake  " — we  naturally  prepare  ourselves 
for  some  very  momentous  communica- 
tion, for  a  truth  which  lay  beyond  the 
reach  of  reason,  or  which  was  likely  to 
have  remained  undiscovered,  had  not 
God  thus  strangely  interposed,  and  con- 
veyed it  through  an  extraordinary  chan- 
nel. All  that  can  be  said  as  to  the  mode 
of  revelation  in  early,  or  patriarchal, 
days,  when  visions  were  employed  be- 
cause as  yet  the  Divine  purposes  were 
not  laid  open  to  the  world,  only  confirms 
the  expectation  that  it  would  be  some 
truth  of  overwhelming  interest,  scarce- 
ly to  be  detected  by  the  researches  of 
natural  theology,  with  whose  delivery  a 
spirit  came  charged. 

But  the  question  now  is,  whether 
such  an  expectation  be,  in  any  measure, 
answered ;  whether,  in  other  words, 
there  be  any  thing  of  apparent  keeping 
between  the  message  itself,  and  the  su- 
pernatural machinery  employed  to  give 
it  utterance.  We  do  not  think  that,  at 
first  sight,  there  is.  Surely,  if  there  be 
an  elementary  truth,  a  truth,  at  least, 
which  every  one  who  believes  in  the  ex- 
istence of  a  God  may  ascertain  without 
revelation,  and  must  admit  without  ques- 
tioning, it  is,  that  man  cannot  be  more 
just  than  God,  nor  more  pure  than  his 
Maker.  You  might  exclaim,  We  need 
no  angel  from  heaven  to  teach  us  this  : 
this  follows  immediately  on  the  confes- 
sion of  a  God :  in  no  as:e  of  the  world 


can  it  have  been  necessary  to  teach 
those,  who  believed  in  a  God,  that  God 
must  be  better  and  greater  than  them- 
selves ;  theoretically,  at  least,  they  must 
always  have,  held  this  proposition,  and 
could  not  have  required  the  being  con- 
firmed in  it  through  a  supernatural 
visitation. 

And  however  scanty  may  have  been 
the  amount  of  express  revelation  in  the 
days  of  the  Patriarch  Job,  there  is  no 
debate  that  a  pure  theism  was  the  creed 
of  himself  and  his  friends  :  that  they 
must  have  been  as  well  aware  as  our- 
selves, and  as  ready  to  acknowledge, 
that  there  existed  a  Being  to  whom 
every  other  was  tributary  and  inferior, 
and  whose  perfections  were  further  re- 
moved than  is  heaven  from  earth,  from 
whatsoever  may  be  likened  to  them  in 
human  characteristics.  We  cannot  well 
doubt,  that,  had  Eliphaz  been  asked,  be- 
fore the  mysterious  visitant  came  upon 
him  in  the  midnight,  which  he  believed 
the  more  just,  and  which  the  more  juire, 
man  or  his  Maker,  he  would  have  an- 
swered without  hesitation,  that  there 
could  not  be  comparison ;  he  would 
perhaps  have  expressed  surprise,  that 
any  one  could  have  supposed  that  the 
lofty  Being  who  inhabiteth  eternity, 
might  be  rivalled  in  any  excellence  by 
the  creatures  of  a  day. 

But  what  then  are  we  to  gather  from 
the  visit  of  the  spectre  ]  wherefore  was 
there  this  departure  from  ordinary  rules, 
this  sending  of  a  special  messenger  from 
the  invisible  world,  if  nothing  were 
communicated  that  was  not  already  well 
known,  nothing  but  the  most  elementary 
truth,  which,  even  in  the  greatest  dearth 
of  revelation,  must  have  been  accessi- 
ble to  all  who,  possessing  any  mind,  em- 
ployed it  upon  Deity  1  We  readily  own 
that  there  is  a  great  apparent  discrep- 
ancy between  the  employed  instru- 
mentality and  the  communicated  mes- 
sage. We  should  have  quite  expected 
that  the  apparition  would  have  an- 
nounced some  abstruse,  mysterious  pro- 
position; that,  as  it  was  sent  for  the 
purpose  of  affording  instruction,  its  ut- 
terances would  not  have  been  limited  to 
an  ascertained  and  incontestable  fact. 
If  there  had  been  any  thing  that  could 
strictly  have  been  called  a  revelation ; 
if  some  property  of  Godhead  had  been 
made  known,  which  was  not  discovera- 
ble by  reason ;  or  if  some  intimation  had 


THE  SPECTRE  S   SERMON  A  TRUISM. 


33 


been  granted  of  the  wondrous  scheme 
of  rescue  which  in  the  fulness  of  time  was 
to  be  acted  out  on  the  earth,  there  would 
seem  to  us  a  sufficient  end  for  the  ap- 
pearance of  the  spirit,  or  a  keeping-  be- 
tween the  purpose  and  the  agency. 
But  to  send  a  spectre,  to  send  it  with 
every  terrible  accompaniment,  so  that  it 
seems  to  have  chilled  the  blood  and  pal- 
sied the  tongue  of  the  spectator,  and  to 
give  it  nothing  to  say,  but  that  God  is 
juster  and  purer  than  man — there  does 
indeed  appear  here  a  kind  of  incongru- 
ity ;  and  we  are  bound  to  examine 
whether  there  be  not  some  lesson  con- 
veyed in  the  very  circumstance  of  the 
employment  of  a  vision,  when,  accord- 
ing to  our  apprehensions,  there  was  no 
need  of  supernatural  teaching.  And 
forasmuch  as  we  know  assuredly  that 
the  means  which  God  employs  are  al- 
ways the  best,  precisely  adapted,  and 
never  disproportioned,  to  the  end,  it  must 
rather  become  us  to  conclude  that  the 
truth,  which  the  apparition  delivered,  is 
not  so  universally  admitted  as  we  sup- 
pose, than  to  wonder  that  what  every 
one  acknowledges  should  have  received 
so  marvellous  an  attestation. 

It  is  here  that  we  come  upon  the  chief 
instructiveness  of  the  passage.  We 
wish  you  indeed  to  contrast  the  solem- 
nity and  awfulness  of  the  agency  em- 
ployed with  the  simplicity  and  common- 
ness of  the  message  delivered.  But  we 
do  not  mean  you  to  infer  that  the  agency 
was  disproportioned  to  the  message  : 
we  rather  call  upon  you  to  examine 
whether,  notwithstanding  the  ready  con- 
fession,  the  message  be  not  one  in  re- 
gard of  which  there  is  a  secret  infideli- 
ty ;  whether,  in  short,  there  be  not  often 
needed  some  such  instrumentality  as 
that  of  the  spectre,  to  persuade  even 
ourselves  that  mortal  man  is  neither 
more  just,  nor  more  pure  than  his  Maker. 

We  may  suppose  that  Eliphaz  ad- 
duced the  vision  as  applicable  to  the 
circumstances  of  Job,  who  laboring 
under  most  weighty  affliction,  would  be 
tempted  to  arraign  the  equity  of  the 
Divine  dispensations.  It  would  not 
have  been  surprising,  in  a  measure  it 
would  seem  to  have  been  the  case,  had 
Job  compared  the  righteousness  of  his 
life  with  the  severity  of  his  lot,  and  had 
he  drawn  from  the  comparison  conclu- 
sions unfavorable  to  the  moral  govern- 
ment  of  God.     Indeed,  they  who  had 


known  the  purity  of  the  patriarch,  and 
then  observed  the  fearful  judgments  by 
which  he  was  overtaken,  must  have  had 
need  of  strong  faith  to  repress  injurious 
suspicions,  and  to  justify  to  themselves 
the  ways  of  their  Maker.  Yea,  so  dif- 
ficult was  it  to  do  this,  without  falling 
into  an  opposite  error,  that  the  three 
friends  of  Job  could  only  defend  God 
by  accusing  the  patriarch  ;  they  vindi- 
cated the  judgments  which  were  visible, 
by  supposing  some  wickedness  which 
had  not  been  detected.  Accordingly, 
Eliphaz  quoted  what  he  had  heard  from 
the  apparition,  as  though  to  repress 
what  was  struggling:  in  the  breast  of  the 
sufferer,  or  to  assure  all,  who  might  be 
staggered  by  his  calamities,  that  God 
must  be  clear  in  the  matter,  whatever 
might  be  said  as  to  man.  It  was  as 
much  as  to  say,  appearances  are  per- 
plexing :  judging  from  these  alone,  we 
might  decide  against  the  Divine  equity, 
and  suppose  that  even  human  beings 
would  act  writh  greater  justice.  But  I 
can  tell  you  of  an  express  communica- 
tion from  Heaven,  intended  to  fortify 
against  such  injurious  suspicions  :  there 
stood  before  me  a  messenger  from  the 
invisible  world,  and  in  accents  which 
thrilled  through  the  soul  he  denounced 
the  imagining  that,  under  any  possi- 
ble circumstances,  man  can  be  juster 
and  more  pure  than  God. 

Thus  the  vision  was  probably  grant- 
ed, and  certainly  used,  to  oppose  an  in- 
fidelity more  or  less  secret — an  infideli- 
ty which,  fostered  by  the  troubles  and 
discrepancies  of  human  estate,  took  the 
Divine  attributes  as  its  subject,  and 
either  limited  or  denied  them  altogeth- 
er. And  what  say  you,  men  and  breth- 
ren, as  to  there  being-  no  such  infidelity 
amongst  ourselves  ]  We  are  persuaded, 
that,  if  you  will  search  your  own  hearts, 
you  will  find  that  you  often  give  it  some 
measure  of  entertainment.  We  are  per- 
suaded of  this  in  reorard  both  of  God's 
general  dealings,  and  of  his  individual 
or  personal. 

And,  first,  of  God's  general  dealings, 
of  those  of  which  the  whole  race,  as  a 
body,  is  the  subject.  In  spite  of  all  the 
demonstrations  of  theology — nay,  in 
spite  of  all  the  acknowledgments  and 
confessions  of  men,  when  pressed  for  an 
answer — there  is  harbored  a  suspicion, 
if  not  a  persuasion,  that  God  acted  in  a 
manner  unworthy  of  his  perfections, 
5 


34 


THE  SPECTRE  S  SERMON  A  TRUISM. 


when  He  suffered  Adam  to  fall,  and  en- 
tailed a  heritage  of  woe  on  myriads 
which  had  no  share  in  his  transgres- 
sion.  There  is  so  much  of  mystery 
round  the  permission  of  evil ;  it  is  ap- 
parently so  strange,  that,  for  a  single 
fault,  calamity  and  death  should  have 
been  made  the  portion  of  successive  and 
mighty  generations ;  that,  reason  how 
we  will,  and  prove  what  we  will,  num- 
bers secretly  cherish  the  thought  that 
there  was  injustice  with  God,  or,  if  not 
injustice,  a  defective  benevolence. 

We  are  not  afraid  of  putting  it  to 
your  own  consciences  to  attest  the  truth 
of  this.  We  are  sure  that  many  amongst 
you  will  secretly  acknowledge,  that, 
when  they  look  on  a  world  overrun 
with  sorrow,  and,  yet  more,  when  they 
think  on  the  fire  and  the  worm  which 
must  constitute  the  future  portion  of 
those  who  obey  the  evil  passions  roused 
in  them  through  the  apostasy  of  Adam, 
they  feel  as  though  there  were  some- 
thing harsh  and  inexplicable  in  the  dis- 
pensation, something  not  to  have  been 
expected  from  such  a  being  as  God,  but 
more  or  less  at  variance  with  the  pre- 
sumed attributes  of  his  nature.  And  we 
are  not  now  about  to  expose  the  tho- 
rough falseness  of  the  opinion.  We 
have  often  done  this.  We  have  often 
shown  you,  that,  forasmuch  as  God  had 
all  along  determined  the  redemption  of 
man,  it  consisted  as  much  with  goodness 
as  with  justice  that  He  permitted  his 
fall — there  having  been  provision,  in 
the  mediatorial  arrangement,  for  the  be- 
stowment  of  far  greater  happiness  on 
the  race  than  it.  lost  through  the  origi- 
nal sin. 

But  it  is  not  our  present  business  to 
vindicate  the  equity  of  the  dealings  in 
question  :  "we  have  simply  to  do  with 
the  suitableness  of  sending  an  appari- 
tion, when  that  equity  might  be  the 
burden  of  the  message  which  it  bore. 
The  point  which  lies  for  our  inquiry,  is 
merely,  whether  such  a  supernatural 
agency  as  was  employed  towards  Eli- 
phaz  be,  or  be  not,  disproportioned  to 
the  communication  with  which  the  spec- 
tre was  charged.  And  our  belief  is, 
that  there  is  no  disproportion ;  that, 
even  now,  with  all  the  aids  which  reve- 
lation can  supply,  and  with  the  glorious 
things  of  redemption  thrown  open  to 
our  view,  there  is  frequently  harbored 
a   feeling   that   God's    ways    were   not 


worthy  of  Himself,  when  He  exposed 
our  first  parents  to  temptation,  and,  hav- 
ing suspended  on  a  single  act  the  inter- 
ests of  countless  myriads,  interfered  not 
to  prevent  the  universal  shipwreck.  We 
care  not  whether  the  feeling  be  openly 
avouched,  though  that  is  far  from  rare 
— enough  that  it  is  secretly  cherished  ; 
and  so  long  as  any  man,  viewing  the 
condition  of  the  world,  and  tracing  that 
condition  to  its  cause,  is  disposed  to  ac- 
cuse God  of  a  want,  whether  of  equity 
or  of  benevolence,  in  regard  of  his  first 
dealings  with  our  race,  so  long  may  it 
be  said  that  an  apparition  would  be 
suitably  employed,  if  employed  to  de- 
liver only  such  words  as  those  which 
the  affrighted  Eliphaz  heai-d.  I  know 
that  you  would  expect,  and  very  justly, 
that,  if  the  silence  of  the  midnight  is  to 
be  broken  by  an  unearthly  voice,  it 
must  be  for  the  announcement  of  some 
very  great  truth  ;  that,  if  you  are  to  be 
startled  by  a  boding  form,  gliding  to  the 
bedside,  it  must  be  on  some  extraordi- 
nary occasion,  and  for  some  momentous 
purpose.  But  we  should  find  such  an 
occasion,  and  such  a  purpose,  whereso- 
ever there  was  a  disposition  to  arraign 
God's  dealings  with  mankind,  to  doubt, 
if  not  to  deny,  their  thorough  consistence 
with  the  alleged  attributes  of  his  na- 
ture.  It  is  nothing  to  say  that  there  is 
already  sufficient  information,  if  there 
be  still  a  secret  and  lingering  infidelity. 
The  sufficiency  of  the  information  may 
be  a  reason  against  expecting  a  super- 
natural visit ;  but  the  fact  of  the  infideli- 
ty is  proof  of  what  would  be  the  suit- 
ableness of  the  visit.  And  though  I 
know  of  any  one  of  you,  that  he  has  in 
his  hands  the  Bible,  that  amazing  re- 
gister  of  God's  gracious  purposes  and 
arrangements  on  behalf  of  the  fallen 
and  lost,  and  that  he  attends  the 
ministrations  of  the  Gospel,  through 
which  is  laid  before  him  a  scheme  of 
restoration  far  more  than  commensurate 
with  the  ruin  wrought  by  sin,  yet  I 
should  not  be  surprised,  I  should  not, 
that  is,  feel  as  though  there  were  an 
agency  disproportioned  to  the  need, 
were  I  to  hear  of  this  man,  that  he  had 
been  visited  by  such  a  form  as  that 
which  stood  before  Eliphaz,  and,  never- 
theless, that  this  form  had  uttered  only 
the  questions  which  Eliphaz  heard.  I 
know  too  well  how  possible,  how  com- 
mon, it  is  for  men  to  be  staggered  by 


THE  SPECTRE  S  SERMON  A  TRUISM. 


35 


the  permission  of  evil,  notwithstanding 
what  is  revealed  to  them  as  to  the   final 
prevalence  of  good.     I   know  too  well 
what  secret  misgivings  there  are,  what 
questionings,  what  doubtings,  what  sus- 
picions :   and  with  what  a  distressed  and 
apprehensive     look    many    survey    the 
aboundings     both    of     iniquity    and    of 
misery,  as   though  they  feared  that  on 
so    troubled    a  sea    there    could  not  sit 
majestical  the  righteousness  of  the  Lord. 
And  could    I  then  think  that  an  appari- 
tion had  been   commissioned   for   a  ne- 
cessarily insufficient  end,  if  commission- 
ed only  to   declare  the  pre-eminent  and 
immutable  attributes  of  the  Most  High  1 
Not  so  :  the  means  would,  in  no  sense, 
be    disproportioned  to  the  end,  and  the 
end  would  be  in  every  sense  worthy  of 
the  means.     It  might  be  that  the  cham- 
ber, which  the  spectre  invaded,  was  that 
of  one  whose  mind  had   long  been  ha- 
rassed by  the  common  doubts,  and  who, 
despite  the  testimony  of  Scripture,  was 
wont  to  argue  upon  human  principles  in 
respect  of  the  fall,  and  to  reach  conclu- 
sions derogatory   to   the  Divine  perfec- 
tions.     There    are    thousands   such   in 
every  division  of  Christendom — I  doubt 
not  there    are    some,  whether  few  or 
many,  amongst  yourselves.     Single  me 
out  such  an  individual.     I  dare  not  pre- 
dict, that,  at  some  coming  midnight,  the 
spectre  will  be  at  his  side.     I  do  not  say 
that  he  has  right  to  expect  a  supernatu- 
ral visit,  when  the  ordinary  means  of  in- 
struction are  so  ready  to  his  hand,  and 
so  abundant  in  themselves.     But  this  I 
say — that  I  should  see  nothing  to  won- 
der at,  nothing  to  persuade  me  that  God 
had  used  extraordinary  agency  where  it 
was  not  required,  if  that  individual  came 
to  me,  and  told  me,  with  all  the  indica- 
tions of  one  who  still  quailed  at  the  re- 
membrance, that,  in  some  deep  silence, 
and  in  some  dark  solitude,   there  had 
hovered  before  him  an  indistinct  form, 
forcing  itself  to  be  felt  as  from  the  un- 
seen world,  by  the  creeping  of  the  flesh, 
and  the  standing  of  the  hair;  that  there 
had  come  forth  from  it  a  voice,  such  as 
never  issued  from  human  thing ;   and, 
nevertheless,  that  the  only  utterances 
thus  syllabled  in  fearfulness  and  mystery, 
were    these    simple    questions,    "  Shall 
mortal    man  be  more  just   than  God? 
shall  a  man  be  more  pure  than  his  Ma- 
ker]" 

My  brethren,  will  you  be  disposed  to 


say  that  we  overstate  facts,  if  we  now 
turn  from  the  general  dealings  of  God 
to  die  individual,  or  personal,  and  con- 
tend that  the  main  of  our  foregoing  ar- 
gument is  applicable  without  the  change 
of  a  letter  1  We  have  hitherto  reason- 
ed on  a  disposition  towards  questioning 
the  equity  of  those  dealings  of  which 
our  whole  race  is  the  subject,  as  sprung 
of  a  rebellious  ancestry.  We  have  con- 
tended that  such  a  disposition  is  com- 
mon, notwithstanding  the  full  testimo- 
nies of  revelation,  so  that  numbers  cher- 
ish a  seci'et  infidelity,  thinking  man 
more  just  than  God,  inasmuch  as  man 
would  not  have  permitted  so  ruinous  a 
thing  as  our  first  parents'  fall.  And  we 
have  argued,  that,  so  long  as  this  secret 
infidelity  exists,  it  would  not  be  without 
sufficient  cause  that  an  apparition  passed 
the  boundary  line  between  the  visible 
and  the  invisible  world,  though  it  should 
have  nothing  to  utter  but  elementary 
truth,  like  that  heard  by  Eliphaz,  truth 
quite  discoverable  by  reason,  though  you 
keep  out  of  sight  the  aids  of  revelation. 
But  now  let  us  ask  you  whether  that 
very  infidelity,  which  we  have  thus  la- 
bored to  expose,  does  not  gain  power 
over  many,  when  individually  subjected 
to  trials  and  afflictions  ?  Alas,  how  easy 
is  it  to  confess  that  God  doeth  all  things 
well,  till  his  hand  is  on  ourselves ;  and 
how  common,  then,  to  feel  as  though  his 
dealings  were  strange,  and  hard  to  be 
justified.  There  is  no  more  frequent 
expression  than  such  as  this,  "  What  a 
mysterious  Providence !  what  a  dark 
dispensation  !  "  You  can  scarcely  speak 
to  a  Christian  when  in  trouble,  without 
hearing  some  such  words.  Whether  it 
be  the  death  of  a  child,  or  of  a  parent, 
the  loss  of  property,  or  the  frustration 
of  some  long-cherished  plan,  with  which 
he  has  been  visited,  his  tone  is  com- 
monly that  of  one  to  whom  something 
has  happened  which  could  not  have  been 
looked  for,  and  who  cannot  account  for 
the  pel-mission  of  the  evil. 

Now  we  do  not  mean  to  say  that  there 
are  no  such  things  as  what  are  popular- 
ly termed  mysterious  providences  ;  but 
we  are  sure  that  the  name  is  frequently 
given  where  there  is  no  mystery  at  all. 
The  end  for  which  God  appoints,  or, 
rather,  permits  affliction,  is  to  turn  men 
to  Himself,  if  they  be  yet  the  impeni- 
tent, and  to  wean  them  more  from  the 
world,  if  they  be  already  converted.    It 


THE   SPECTRE'S   SERMON   A  TRUISM. 


can,  therefore,  in  no  case  be  actually 
Burpriaing  that  affliction  should  come, 
because  even  the  most  righteous  are  so 
far  from  perfect,  that,  to  their  dying 
day,  they  will  need  corrective  discipline. 
Where  then,  in  strict  truth,  is  the  mys- 
teriousncss  of  a  dispensation,  if  we  can 
always  sec  the  designed  advantageous- 
ness  (  There  is  something  of  contradic- 
tion here.  The  Christian  tells  me  that 
the  death  of  his  child  is  a  dark  dealing 
— wherefore  dark,  if  himself  confesses 
that  he  is  not  yet  refined,  as  he  should 
be,  from  the  dross  of  this  earth,  and, 
therefore,  has  further  need  of  passing 
through  the  furnace  ]  He  may  not  be 
able  to  trace  a  connexion  between  the 
particular  sorrow  and  some  particular 
sin  :  he  may  not,  that  is,  be  able  to  as- 
sign any  one  special  reason  for  any  one 
special  affliction — and  so  far  there  might 
be  mystery,  were  it,  indeed,  his  business 
to  affix  to  every  stripe  an  individual 
cause — but  he  can  see  clearly  enough 
that  he  requires  chastisement  in  the 
general  ;  and  how  then  can  it  be  mys- 
terious that  chastisement  should  come1? 

And  we  cannot  but  feel,  that,  in  a 
variety  of  instances,  this  speaking  of 
the  mysteriousness  of  a  common  dis- 
pensation, indicates  a  secret  doubt  as  to 
the  goodness  or  fitness  of  the  dispensa- 
tion :  men  would  not  be  so  ready  to  call 
a  thing  inexplicable,  if,  all  the  while, 
they  felt  that.it  was  wisely  and  benevo- 
lently ordered.  We  do  not  mean  to 
say  that  a  Christian  may  not,  at  one  and 
the  same  time,  regard  a  dealing  as  mys- 
terious, and  feel  it  to  be  good :  but 
where  mysteriousness  is  ascribed  to 
that  for  which  there  is  evidently  reason 
in  abundance,  we  have  ground  to  sus- 
pect that  there  is  no  real  persuasion  of 
there  being  such  reason  at  all.  And 
judge  ye  yourselves,  ye  to  whom  God 
has  been  pleased  to  allot  much  of  sor- 
row, whether  ye  have  not  cherished  a 
secret  suspicion  that  ye  were  dealt  with 
in  a  manner  not  to  have  been  looked 
for  from  One  who  knew  your  frame,  and 
remembered  that  ye  were  dust ;  wheth- 
er ye  have  not  used  what  ye  have  called 
the  darkness  of  the  dispensation,  to 
cover  a  doubt,  if  not  a  denial,  of  its 
goodness  ? 

We  would  have  you  call  to  mind  your 
misgivings,  when  some  beloved  object 
has  lain  dead  in  your  houses,  or  your 
rebellious  questionings  when  trouble  of 


one  kind  or  another  has  made  way  into 
your  families  ;  and  you  will  hardly,  we 
think,  be  able  to  deny,  that,  in  seasons 
of  affliction,  there  is  a  tendency,  in  the 
face  of  all  the  testimony  of  Scripture 
and  experience,  towards  disbelieving  the 
fundamental  attributes  of  God,  or  re- 
garding his  dispensations  as  at  variance 
with  his  perfections.  Ah,  if  you  want 
evidence  that  the  apparition,  in  bringing 
the  very  simplest  and  most  elementary 
of  messages,  brought  what  was  worthy 
of  a  supernatural  conveyance,  you  miffht 
often  find  that  evidence  in  the  chamber 
of  some  mourner  who  is  weeping  for 
the  dead.  It  may  be  that  yonder  moth- 
er, as  she  looks  on  the  rigid  pale  face 
of  her  child,  imagines  herself  resigned, 
and  professes  her  persuasion  that  God 
hath  smitten  her  in  love.  But  doubts 
are  struggling  in  her  mind;  the  afflic- 
tion seems  to  her  inexplicable  :  she 
cannot  understand  why  she  should  have 
been  thus  visited  :  the  Bible,  indeed, 
assures  her  of  the  compassion,  the  ten- 
derness, of  the  Almighty  ;  but  she  turns 
from  comforting  texts  to  the  sad  spec- 
tacle before  her — so  young,  so  beautiful, 
so  gentle,  would  not  a  merciful  being 
have  spared  awhile  that  sweet  flower  ] 
— and  then  the  tears,  which  the  light  of 
revelation  had  almost  dried,  break  forth 
again,  and,  though  taken  for  the  gush- 
ings  of  nature,  are  rather  the  flowings 
of  unbelief. 

Now  is  it  not  certain  that  this  dis- 
tracted and  sorrowing  parent  requires 
to  have  impressed  upon  her  the  most 
elementary  of  truths,  that  God  cannot 
do  wrong,  that  He  cannot  do  other  than 
the  best '?  Whatever  her  theory,  it  is 
practically  this  truth  of  which  she  wants 
persuasion ;  it  is  this  truth  in  which 
she  has  no  thorough  belief.  And  if, 
then,  it  were  to  please  God  to  vouch- 
safe her  a  supernatural  communication, 
would  it  not  be  worthy  of  God,  would 
not  the  supernatural  machinery  be  fitly 
employed,  if  the  message  were  nothing 
more  than  that  sent  to  Eliphaz  1  She 
has  the  Bible  :  she  has  the  revelation  of 
the  Gospel :  but,  notwithstanding  these, 
she  is  secretly  distrustful  of  God,  and 
inclined  to  arraign  the  goodness  of  his 
dealings.  Then  I  do  not  know,  that,  as 
she  sits  there,  and  wails  over  the  dead, 
a  shadowy  thing  will  pass  before  her, 
and  brinor  words  from  above.     But  this 

O 

I  know — that,  if  an  apparition  were  to 


THE  SPECTRES   SERMON   A  TRUISM. 


37 


enter,  and  stand,  in  its  uncarthliness,  at 
the  side  of  the  coffin  where  her  child 
lies  so  still,  the  most  appropriate  mes- 
sage which  the  spectre  could  deliver, 
would  be  the  simple  one  which  was 
brought  so  thrillingly  to  Eliphaz.  Ay, 
that  mother  might  rush  from  her  cham- 
ber  with  the  scared  and  wan  look  of 
one  who  had  gazed  on  the  being  of 
another  sphere  ;  and  she  might  relate 
to  me,  circumstantially  and  convincingly, 
how,  in  the  darkened  room,  and  amid 
that  silence  which  is  the  more  oppres- 
sive because  it  makes  every  sob  so  dis- 
tinct, she  had  been  confronted  by  a  form 
whose  very  mystery  proved  it  an  inhabi- 
tant of  the  invisible  world.  But  when 
she  had  collected  herself  sufficiently  to 
tell  me  what  the  spectre  had  said,  I 
should  expect  to  hear  nothing  of  new 
revelation,  nothing  as  to  the  state  of  the 
departed,  nothing  as  to  the  happiness 
of  heaven.  I  should  expect,  as  most 
precisely  what  she  needed,  and  there- 
fore as  most  likely  to  be  thus  strangely 
transmitted,  that  the  apparition,  which 
had  made  the  hair  of  her  flesh  stand  up, 
would  have  left  these  words  printed  on 
her  mind,  "  Shall  mortal  man  be  more 
just  than  God  1  shall  a  man  be  more 
pure  than  his  Maker  1  " 

And  thus  we  may,  perhaps,  have  done 
something  towards  removing  the  appear- 
ance of  disproportion  between  the  ve- 
hicle employed  and  the  message  con- 
veyed— the  vehicle  supernatural,  the 
message  the  most  simple,  and  apparent- 
ly not  needing  the  being  delivered  at 
all.  I  do  not  know  whether  you  may 
have  been  used  to  observe  the  dispro- 
portion ;  but,  certainly,  to  my  own 
mind  it  is  very  striking.  I  almost  trem- 
ble at  the  description  which  Eliphaz 
gives  of  the  spirit.  I  feel  sure  that  this 
dim  and  awful  visitant  must  have  come 
for  a  momentous  and  extraordinary  pur- 
pose. I  prepare  myself,  accordingly, 
to  hear  from  his  lips  some  deep, 
majestic,  and  perhaps  inscrutable, 
truth — when,  lo,  there  is  nothing  ut- 
tered but  what  evei-y  child  knows,  what 
every  one  believes,  in  believing  a 
God.  Our  great  object  has  been  to 
show  you,  that,  simple  as  the  truth 
is,  and  unhesitatingly  acknowledged, 
it  is  nevertheless  one  in  regard  of 
which  there  is  a  prevalent,  though 
secret  unbelief,  so  that  an  apparition 
would  not  be  employed  on  what  did  not 


need  the  being  supernaturally  taught,  if 
employed  to  enforce  so  elementary  a 
proposition. 

And  there  is  one  general  inference 
which  we  wish  to  draw  from  the  appa- 
rent, though  not  actual  disproportion. 
It  is  this — that  truths,  which  we  never 
think  of  disputing,  may  be  those  which 
practically  we  are  most  in  the  habit  of 
forgetting.  It  is  of  well-known  things 
that  a  spectre  must  speak  to  us,  if  it 
would  speak  of  what  it  is  important  that 
we  know.  The  apparition  is  not  need- 
ed to  impart  new  truth,  but  to  impress 
old.  O  strange  but  actual  condition  of 
man — that,  if  a  spirit  were  sent  to  him 
with  a  message  for  his  good,  it  would 
be  only  of  things  with  which  he  has  long 
been  familiar.  The  apparition  enters 
the  chamber  of  the  man  of  pleasure — 
what  says  it  to  the  terrified  voluptuary  ] 
"All  flesh  is  grass,  and  all  the  glory  of 
man  as  the  flower  of  grass.  "  Why,  he 
knew  this  before ;  he  has  heard  it  a 
thousand  times — yes;  but  this  is  what 
he  practically  disbelieves  :  he  lives  as 
though  he  were  not  to  die,  and,  there- 
fore, what  he  needs  from  the  apparition 
is  the  being  told  his  mortality.  The 
gliding  spectre  goes  stealthily  to  the 
side  of  a  miser  ;  as  the  wealthy  accumu- 
lator cowers  and  quails  before  the  phan- 
tom, in  what  words  is  he  addressed  ? 
"  We  brought  nothing  into  the  world, 
and  it  is  certain  that  we  can  carry  no- 
thing out;" — why,  this  is  no  news: 
must  the  sheeted  dead  come  back  to 
tell  a  man  this  1  no  news,  indeed — yet 
this  is  what  the  covetous  practically  dis- 
believes ;  he  hoards  as  though  his  riches 
were  to  go  with  him  into  eternity  ;  and 
therefore  would  the  apparition  be  em- 
ployed to  the  most  necessary  end,  if 
employed  to  give  impressiveness  to  the 
very  tritest  of  truths. 

It  is  the  same  in  every  other  instance. 
With  every  one  of  us  there  is  some  sim- 
ple truth  about  which  there  is  no  dis- 
pute, but  to  which  there  is  no  power ; 
and  if  a  spectre  were  sent  with  a  mes- 
sage, it  would  be  this  truth  which  it 
would  be  most  for  our  advantage  that  it 
should  deliver ;  the  delivery  being  need- 
ed, not  to  increase  our  knowledge,  but 
to  make  the  knowledge  influential. 
Alas  !  alas  !  is  not  this  true  in  regard 
of  all  the  uncontroverted  in  the  present 
assembly  ]  Spirits  of  the  dead,  appear 
amongst  us.     Rise  as  shadowy,  vapory 


38 


VARIOUS  OPINIONS. 


things,  and  preach,  in  the  name  of  the 
living  God,  to  the  men  and  the  women 
who  yet  care  nothing  for  their  souls. 
"What  will  they  say  1  "  Except  ye  re- 
pent, ye  shall  all  likewise  perish.  " 
Why,  I  have  preached  this  to  you  a 
hundred  times  :  ye  have  heard  it,  till  ye 
are  wearied  by  the  repetition.  And 
yet,  if  we  want  spectres  at  all,  we  want 
them  only  to  deliver  this  common-place 
truth  :  it  might  be  effectual,  as  breathed 
by  their  wild  strange  voices,  though  of- 
ten uttered  without  avail  by  mine. 

So  that,  it  is  not  to  tell  you  what  is 
new,  but  to  make  you  feel  what  is  old, 
that  we  would  invoke  the  phantoms, 
and  beseech  them  to  arise.  But  they 
come  not — why  should  they  ?  ye  must 
be  self-condemned,  if  your  remaining  in 
danger  of  everlasting  death  be  only 
through  your  not  acting  on  your  know- 
ledge. It  is  not  a  revelation  which  you 
need  :  and  therefore  must  you  not  ex- 


pect that  God  will  depart  from  ordinary 
rules,  and  send  serial  beings  to  make 
revelation  more  impressive.  The  spirits 
will  not  appear  now,  to  force  you  to 
accept  what  you  make  light  of  when 
offered  through  the  ministrations  of  your 
fellow  men.  But  the  spirits  shall  appear 
hereafter.  "  Ten  thousand  times  ten 
thousand,  and  thousands  of  thousands  " 
shall  be  around  the  Judge.  They  shall 
attest  the  equity  of  the  sentence  which 
dooms  to  destruction  those  who  have 
put  from  them  pardon  through  Christ. 
I  hear  the  words  that  were  heard  by 
Eliphaz — if,  for  a  moment,  those  ap- 
pointed to  the  fire  and  the  shame  at- 
tempt to  arraign  the  justice  of  their 
portion,  a  voice  like  the  voice  of  many 
thunderings,  or  of  mighty  waters,  bursts 
from  the  throng,  the  countless  throng,  of 
spirits,  "  Shall  mortal  man  be  more  just 
than  God  1  shall  man  be  more  pure  than 
his  Maker]" 


SERMON    V. 


VARIOUS  OPINIONS. 


"  Many  of  the  people  therefore,  when  they  heard  this  sayin?,  said,  Of  a  truth  this  is  the  Prophet.  Others  said,  This 
is  the  Christ.  But  some  said,  Shall  Christ  come  out  of  Galilee?  Hath  not  the  Scripture  said,  That  Christ  cometh 
of  the  seed  of  David,  and  out  of  the  town  of  Bethlehem,  where  David  was?  "—St.  John  vii.  40,  41,  42. 


"We  often  speak  of  the  great  changes 
and  revolutions  which  have  occurred  in 
the  world  :  history  is  considered  as  lit- 
tle else  than  the  record  of  the  rise  and 
fall  of  communities,  families,  and  indi- 
viduals. But,  throughout  the  long  se- 
ries of  vicissitudes,  there  may  be  traced 
much  of  what  is  permanent  and  perpet- 
ual ;  so  that,  probably,  sameness  or  uni- 
formity is  as  truly  the  characteristic  of 
human  history  as  variety  or  diversity.  It 
may,  for  example,  be  always  ascertain- 
ed by  a  careful  observer,  that  the  same 


principles  have  pervaded  God's  moral 
government  :  amid  all  changes  and 
chances,  it  can  be  seen  that  an  overruling 
providence  has  been  at  work,  guiding 
the  complicated  instrumentality,  and  di- 
recting it  to  the  futherance  of  certain 
fixed  purposes  and  ends.  It  may  also 
be  perceived  that  the  elements  of  human 
character  have  throughout  been  the 
same  :  man  has  changed  in  his  fortune 
and  position,  but  not  in  himself:  you 
find  him  in  the  most  opposite  conditions, 
according  as  civilization  is  advanced  or 


VARIOUS   OPINIONS. 


39 


defective,  according  as  power  is  be- 
stowed or  withheld  ;  but  you  never  find 
him  other  than  a  creature  inclined  to 
evil,  and  not  liking  to  "  retain  God  in 
his  thoughts. " 

This  sameness  in  human  character 
might  be  traced  in  the  minutest  parti- 
culars. Not  but  what  there  are  many 
and  marked  differences  between  the  sa- 
vage, and  the  man  of  a  polished  age  and 
community  ;  but  they  are  not  differences 
in  the  staple,  so  to  speak,  of  the  moral 
constitution;  you  might  in  any  given 
case  make  the  one  out  of  the  other,  and 
still  have  the  same  enmity  to  God  and 
to  righteousness,  because  you  would 
still  have  the  same  depraved  heart.  And 
forasmuch  as  the  human  heart,  in  its  un- 
renewed state,  has  all  along  been  the 
same,  answering  always  to  the  scriptural 
description,  "deceitful  above  all  things 
and  desperately  wicked,"  there  can  be 
no  surprise  that  so  great  sameness  may 
be  traced  in  man  himself,  notwithstand- 
ing the  perpetual  shiftings  of  his  con- 
dition :  you  can  expect  nothing  but  that, 
when  viewed  as  the  creature  of  God,  he 
should  exhibit  the  same  prejudice,  op- 
position, and  dislike  ;  make  similar  ob- 
jections to  the  divine  dealings,  and  jus- 
tify unbelief  by  similar  fallacies. 

It  were  beside  our  purpose  to  go  into 
evidence,  on  the  present  occasion,  of  the 
moral,  or  religious  sameness,  which  mav 
be  traced,  we  affirm,  throughout  the  his- 
tory of  man.  But  our  text,  relating,  as 
it  does,  opinions  and  debatings  of  the 
Jews  with  regard  to  our  Lord,  will  give 
us  great  opportunities  of  observing  this 
sameness  in  some  particular  cases.  We 
shall  probably  find  that  the  sort  of  rea- 
soning, by  which  the  claims  of  Chris- 
tianity were  parried  at  its  first  introduc- 
tion, is  still  practised  amongst  ourselves  : 
we  may  be  compelled  to  say  that  men 
are  what  they  were  more  than  eighteen 
hundred  years  back,  on  discovering  that 
the  grounds  of  scepticism  are  but  little 
shifted  ;  that  modern  indifference,  or 
unbelief,  borrows  from  ancient  its  form 
and  apology. 

Leaving  this,  however,  to  open  upon 
us  as  we  advance  with  our  subject — or 
rather,  preparing  you  by  it  to  expect 
that  we  shall  turn  much  of  our  discourse 
on  resemblances  between  the  Jews  and 
ourselves — we  will  go  straightway  to  the 
scene  presented  by  the  text  :  we  will 
hearken  to   the   various  and  conflicting 


sentiments  which  are  being  expressed 
in  regard  of  our  Redeemer;  and  we 
will  see  whether  we  may  not  find  mat- 
ter of  instruction  and  warning,  as  some 
call  Him  the  Prophet,  some  the  Christ. 
whilst  others  are  asking,  whether  it  be 
not  indeed  contrary  to  Scripture,  thav 
the  Christ  should  come  out  of  Galilee  } 

Now  the  first  parties  introduced  into 
our  text,  are  those  who  were  disposec 
to  recognize  in  our  Lord  a  teacher  sen 
from  God:  for  though  it  is  not  quite 
clear  whom  they  intended  by  "the  Pro 
phet  " — whether  Him  of  whom  Mosee 
had  spoken,  "a  Prophet  shall  the  Lord 
your  God  raise  up  unto  you  of  your 
brethren,  like  unto  me,"  and  who  wae 
none  other  than  Messiah  Himself;  or 
whether  that  Prophet  who  was  gene- 
rally expected  as  the  forerunner  of  the 
Messiah — there  can  be  no  question  that 
they  meant  some  one  with  a  commission 
from  above,  some  instructor,  authorised 
by  God  to  deliver  intimations  of  his  pur- 
pose and  will.  Probably,  indeed,  they 
who  call  our  Lord  "the  Prophet,"  did 
not  thereby  mean  the  Christ;  for  the 
Evangelist  makes  two  classes,  those 
who  confessed  "  the  Prophet "  in  our 
Savior,  and  those  who  confessed  the 
Christ ;  and  this  he  would  hardly  have 
done,  had  the  same  personage  been  in- 
tended, but  under  different  names.  In 
either  case,  however, — and  this  is  all 
with  which  we  are  at  present  concern- 
ed— a  teacher  with  divine  authority  was 
evidently  recognized :  something  had 
been  done,  or  said,  by  our  Lord,  which 
produced  a  conviction — though  it  may 
have  been  only  transient,  and  without 
practical  results — that  He  was  no  de- 
ceiver, no  enthusiast ;  but  that  He  spake 
in  God's  name,  and  bore  his  commis- 
sion. 

And  it  will  be  very  interesting  to  ob- 
serve what  had  been  the  immediate  pro- 
ducing cause  of  this  conviction ;  for  we 
so  generally  find  our  Lord  treated  with 
contempt  and  neglect,  his  miracles  be- 
ing ascribed  to  Beelzebub,  and  his  dis- 
courses listened  to  with  apparent  indif- 
ference, that  we  naturally  look  for  some- 
thing- very  memorable  in  the  doing-  or 
the  saying,  which  could  influence  the 
multitude  to  regard  with  favor  his  claims. 

It  was  not,  as  you  learn  from  the  first 
verse  of  our  text,  any  action  of  Christ 
which  wrought  this  effect:  He  had  not 
just  then  been  working  one  of  his  more 


40 


VARIOUS   OPINIONS. 


stupendous  miracles ;  though  this,  you 
may  think,  would  most  readily  have  ex- 
plained the  sudden  conviction  of  his  be- 
ing Messiah.  The  effect  is  expressly 
attributed  to  a  "saying"  of  our  Lord. 
"  Many  of  the  people  therefore,  when 
they  heard  this  saying,  said,  Of  a  truth 
this  is  the  Prophet."  And  what  was 
the  wonder-working  saying  1  Those  of 
you  who  do  not  remember,  will  be  apt 
to  imagine  that  the  saying  must  have 
been  one  of  extraordinary  power,  some 
mighty  assertion  of  divinity,  or,  perhaps, 
some  verification  in  himself  of  ancient 
prophecy,  too  complete  and  striking  to 
be  resisted,  even  by  Jewish  unbelief. 
Certainly  were  it  put  to  us  to  conjec- 
ture a  saying  by  which  Christ  was  likely 
to  have  overcome  for  a  time  the  general 
infidelity,  it  would  be  natural  for  us  to 
fix  on  some  sublime  and  magnificent 
announcement,  some  application  of 
Scripture,  or  some  declaration  of  su- 
premacy, which  carried  with  it  startling 
evidence  of  unearthly  authority.  And 
we  are  far  from  wishing  to  imply  that 
the  actual  saying  of  our  Lord  was  not 
of  the  kind  which  would  be  thus  readily 
supposed ;  but  at  first  sight,  at  least,  it 
scarcely  seems  such  as  might  have  na- 
turally been  expected.  You  find  the 
saying  in  the  thirty-seventh  verse  of  the 
chapter.  "In  the  last  day,  that  great 
day  of  the  feast,  Jesus  stood  and  cried, 
saying,  If  any  man  thirst,  let  him  come 
unto  me,  and  drink."  This  was  the 
wonder-working  saying.  Our  Lord  in- 
deed proceeded,  in  the  following  verse, 
to  bear  out,  as  it  were,  the  saying  by  a 
quotation  from  ancient  Scripture,  "  He 
that  believeth  on  me,  as  the  Scripture 
hath  said,  out  of  his  belly  shall  flow  rivers 
of  living  water."  But  it  is  evident  enough 
that  this  is  only  given  in  illustration,  or 
vindication  of  the  saying;  so  that  still 
the  saying,  on  which  many  of  the  people 
yielded,  was  the  simple  invitation  in  the 
thirty-seventh  verse. 

And  it  ought  not  to  be  overlooked, 
that,  before  the  Evangelist  describes  the 
effect  of  the  saying  on  the  people,  he  in- 
troduces, in  a  parenthesis,  a  comment 
on  the  saying.  It  is  very  unusual  with 
the  sacred  writers  to  affix  any  explana- 
tion of  the  meaning  of  our  Lord  :  but 
this  is  one  of  the  rare  cases  in  which  a 
commentary  is  subjoined;  for  St.  John 
adds,  "  But  this  spake  he  of  the  Spirit 
which  they  that  believe  on  him  should 


receive  ;  for  the  Holy  Ghost  was  not  yet 
given,  because  that  Jesus  was  not  yet 
glorified."  This  is  very  observable,  be- 
cause, by  adding  an  explanation  of  the 
saying,  the  Evangelist  would  seem  to 
imply  that  it  was,  in  a  measure,  difficult 
or  obscure  :  nevertheless,  it  wrought 
with  sin-prising  energy  on  a  great  mass 
of  hearers  :  simple  as  it  seems  to  us, 
dark  as,  in  some  respects,  it  must  have 
been  counted  by  St.  John,  it  succeeded 
at  once,  if  not  in  permanently  attaching 
numbers  to  Christ's  side,  yet  in  wring- 
ing from  them  a  confession  that  He 
could  be  none  other  than  a  divinely  sent 
teacher.  Here,  then,  we  have  a  point 
of  very  great  interest  to  examine.  Let 
us  separate  it  from  the  remainder  of  the 
text,  and  set  ourselves  simply  to  con- 
sider what  there  was  in  the  saying  which 
our  Lord  had  uttered,  to  induce  many 
of  the  people  to  exclaim,  "Of  a  truth 
this  is  the  Prophet,  and  others,  This  is 
the  Christ." 

Now  you  will  observe  at  once,  that 
the  saying  before  us  is  one  of  those  gra- 
cious invitations,  into  which  may  be  said 
to  be  gathered  the  whole  Gospel  of 
Christ.  It  demands,  indeed,  a  sense  of 
want,  the  feeling  of  thirst:  but  if  there 
be  this,  it  proffers  an  abundant  supply. 
"If  any  man  thirst,  let  him  come  unto 
me  and  drink."  And  by  adding  a  refer- 
ence to  Scriptures,  which,  though  not 
then  fully  understood,  could  only  be  in- 
terpreted of  some  measure  and  kind  of 
supernatural  influence,  our  blessed  Lord 
may  be  considered  as  intimating,  that 
what  He  promised  to  the  thirsty  was  a 
spiritual  gift,  the  satisfying  of  desires  af- 
ter God  and  immortality.  Whatever  the 
degree  in  which  the  promise  may  have 
been  understood,  there  can  be  no  doubt 
that  it  was  received  as  relating  to  com- 
munications of  Divine  grace,  that  it  was 
thought,  or  felt,  to  convey  assurance  of 
instruction  in  the  knowledge  of  Cod, 
and  of  assistance  in  the  great  business 
of  saving  the  soul. 

Here  is  the  moral  thirst,  to  which 
every  one  must  have  been  conscious 
that  our  Lord  had  respect,  and  which  is 
not  to  be  slaked  at  the  springs  of  human 
science,  or  of  natural  theology.  And  if 
there  were  many,  as  there  may  have 
been,  in  the  throng  surrounding  Christ, 
on  the  last  and  great  day  of  the  feast, 
who,  dissatisfied  with  the  traditions  of 
the  elders,  felt  the  need  of  higher  teach- 


VARIOUS  OPINIONS. 


41 


incr  in  order  to  acquaintance  with  hea- 
venly things,  we  may  quite  understand 
how  the  gracious  promise  of  living  wa- 
ters would  come  home  to  them,  as  meet- 
ing their  wants  ;  and  how  the  felt  suita- 
bleness of  the  offer  would  pass  with 
them  as  an  argument  for  the  Divine  mis- 
sion of  Him  by  whom  it  was  made. 

There  is  no  difference  here,  according 
to  our  introductory  remarks,  between 
past  days  and  our  own  :  we  have  but  to 
transfer  the  scene  to  ourselves,  and  the 
like  invitation  may  produce  the  like  ef- 
fect. For  the  argument  herein  involved 
is,  after  all,  but  that  on  which  we  have 
often  to  touch,  and  which  is  based  on 
what  we  call  the  self-evidencing  power 
of  the  Bible,  the  power  which  there  is 
in  it,  quite  apart  from  outward  creden- 
tials, of  commending  itself  to  the  con- 
science as  the  word  of  the  Almighty.  You 
are  all  aware  of  the  difference  between 
the  external  and  the  internal  evidence 
for  the  truth  of  Christianity.  There  is 
a  vast  mass  of  external  evidence  in 
miracles  which  have  been  wrought,  and 
prophecies  which  have  been  accom- 
plished. But  there  is  also  a  vast  mass 
of  internal  evidence,  in  the  suitableness 
of  the  revealed  doctrines  to  man's  ascer- 
tained wants,  in  the  exactness  with 
which  the  proposed  remedy  meets  the 
known  disease.  One  man  may  be  con- 
vinced of  the  Divine  mission  of  a  teach- 
er, by  seeing  him  work  wonders  which 
surpass  human  power;  another,  by  hear- 
ing him  deliver  truths  which  surpass 
human  discovery.  A  religion  may  com- 
mend itself  to  me  as  having  God  for  its 
author,  either  by  prodigies  wrought  in 
its  support,  or  by  the  nicety  with  which 
it  fits  in  to  the  whole  mental  and  moral 
constitution,  to  the  complicated  wants, 
and  the  restless  cravings,  of  a  soul  which 
has  sought  in  vain  every  where  else  for 
supply  and  direction. 

And  this  latter  is  the  standing  witness 
for  the  Bible.  The  sinner  who  is  con- 
scious of  exposure  to  the  wrath  of  God, 
and  of  utter  inability  in  himself  to  ward 
off  destruction,  will  find  in  Christ  so 
precisely  the  Savior  whom  he  needs, 
and  in  the  proffered  aid  of  the  Spirit  so 
exactly  the  help  adapted  to  his  circum- 
stances, that  there  will  seem  to  him  no 
room  for  doubt  as  to  the  truth  of  the 
Gospel :  like  parts  of  one  and  the  same 
curious  and  intricate  machine,  the  Bible, 
and  the  human  conscience  and  heart,  so 


fit  in  to  each  other,  that  there  must  have 
been  the  same  Author  to  all :  it  is  felt, 
even  where  there  is  no  external  demon- 
stration, that  He  who  wrote  the  book, 
must  have  been  He  who  made  the  man. 

We  do  not,  of  course,  mean  that  this 
self-evidencing  power  of  Scripture  will 
commend  itself  to  all  with  the  same 
readiness,  and  urgency,  as  might  a  visi- 
ble miracle  performed  in  its  support. 
There  is  required  a  peculiar  state  of 
mind,  in  order  to  the  appreciating  the 
internal  testimony :  it  springs  mainly 
from  the  correspondence  between  the 
remedy  and  the  disease,  and  cannot, 
therefore,  be  detected  except  where  the 
disease  has  been  felt.  And  you  observe, 
accordingly,  that  the  saying  of  our  Lord, 
which  is  now  under  review,  supposes  a 
sense  of  deficiency,  or  a  feeling  of  want : 
it  invites  only  the  thirsty  :  the  thirsty 
alone  will  be  inclined  to  hearken  to  it  : 
but  the  thirsty  will  be  attracted  by  its 
preferring  exactly  what  they  feel  that 
they  need.  Thus  with  the  everlasting 
Gospel.  It  proposes  a  Savior  to  lost 
sinners :  they  who  feel  themselves  lost 
sinners  will  quickly  discern  in  Christ 
such  a  Savior  as  they  need  :  they  who 
are  altogether  void  of  such  a  feeling  will 
find  in  Him  "no  form,  nor  comeliness  ;  " 
and  if  overcome  by  the  external  evi- 
dence for  the  truth  of  Christianity,  will 
merely  assent  to  it  as  to  a  barren  specu- 
lation, a  question  of  history,  about  which, 
even  when  professedly  convinced,  they 
remain  practically  indifferent. 

There  is  probably  enough  in  these  re- 
marks to  explain  why  it  should  have 
been  on  the  hearing  a  certain  saying  of 
our  Lord,  as  is  expressly  noted  by  the 
Evangelist,  that  many  of  the  people 
were  disposed  to  own  Him  for  the  Christ. 
Do  you  wonder  that  such  an  effect 
should  not  rather  have  followed  on  the 
working  of  some  miracle,  than  on  the 
utterance  of  some  saying  1  Nay — you 
are  to  observe  that  there  is  a  state  of 
mind,  a  state  aptly  delineated  by  the 
imagery  of  thirst,  which  is  more  acces- 
sible to  an  appropriate  doctrine  than  to 
any  outward  demonstration  :  the  thirsty 
man  feels  the  suitableness  of  a  pi-omise 
of  water,  and  is  at  once  disposed  to  close 
with  the  proffer,  without  waiting  for 
si  cos  that  He  who  makes  it  has  author- 
ity  to  deal  with  his  case. 

But,   admitting   that  a  doctrine  may 
prevail  where  even   a  miracle   has    no 
6 


42 


VARIOUS   OPINIONS. 


power,   do  you  next  wonder  that  the 
saying,   which   wrought  with   so  great 
energy,  should  have  been  so  simple  and 
unpretending   as    it    is  1     Nay — we  set 
against  this  opinion  the  whole  of  what 
has   been  advanced   as   to  the  self-evi- 
dencing power  of  the    Bible.     I  have 
right  to  assume  that  there  were  many 
in  the   crowd  who  thirsted ;  and  Christ 
could  not  have  spoken  more  immediately 
to  the  consciences  and  hearts  of  such  as 
thirsted,  than  by  inviting  them  to  come 
to   Him  that  they  might  drink.     Who 
thirsts  1  the  man  who,  feeling  himself  a 
sinner,  pants  for  the  forgiveness  of  his 
sins.     The  man  who,  conscious   of  ina- 
bility, longs  to  be   assisted  in  turning 
unto  God.     The  man  who,  made  aware 
of  his  immortality,  craves  endless  hap- 
piness.    The  man  who,  taught  that  God 
is  just,  seeks  eagerly  to   discover  whe- 
ther He  can  be  also  the  justifier  of  the 
fallen.      What   will   these   thirsty    ones 
listen  to   most   readily?  in  what  words 
will  they  be  most  disposed  to  recognize 
the   vofce   and   the  authority  of  truth  ? 
Certainly,  as  no  message  will  so  much 
meet    their  need,  none    will    so    much 
commend  itself  to  them  as  proceeding 
from  God  who  best  knows  their  wants, 
as  that  which  shows  how  thirst  may  be 
satisfied,  how  the  longing  for  forgive- 
ness,  for  righteousness,   for  happiness, 
on  the  part  of  sinful  creatures,  may  be 
appeased  without  violence,  nay,  rather, 
with  honor,  to  Divine  justice  and  purity. 
And  though  Christ  did  not  go  into  all 
these  particulars,  there  was  that  in  his 
saying  which  addressed  itself  to   every 
case  of  spiritual  thirst ;  which  no  thirsty 
man  could   fail  to  take  to  himself;   so 
that  you  have  only  to  suppose  that  many 
were  thirsting  in   the   crowd,  and  you 
suppose  many  to  whom  the  invitation 
must    have    come   home  with  the   self- 
evidencing  power  which   we  claim  for 
the  Gospel.     If  there  were  not  enough, 
in  so  brief  and    unexplained  a  saying, 
to   prove   that  Christ  came  from  God, 
there    was     enough    to    incline     those, 
who  were  conscious  of  spiritual  wants, 
to  receive  teaching  from  One  who  offer- 
ed  the  very  thing  of  which   they   were 
in  quest.     If  the  simple  invitation  were 
not  likely,  of  itself,  to  convince  such  as 
had  not  heard  of  Him  before  of  his    be- 
ing the  Messiah,  yet,  when  it  came  upon 
anxious  and   craving  minds,  which  had 
already  been  moved  by  the  fame  of  his 


miracles,  it  was  adapted  to  scatter  all 
doubts,  and  to  turn  into  full  persuasion 
the  growing  conjecture.     Miracles,  of 
themselves,  cannot  prove  a  Divine  mis- 
sion :  they  must  be  wrought  in  defence 
of  truth  ;   otherwise  we  may  not  ascribe 
them   to  the   finger  of  God.     But   He 
who,  having  worked  miracles  to  fix  at- 
tention on  his  doctrine,  then  proceeded 
to  utter  doctrine  which  was  as  water  to 
the  parched  and  wearied  soul  of  man — 
oh,  he  indeed  left  no  place  for  unbelief, 
save   with   those  who  were  hewing  out 
broken  cisterns  for  themselves,   or  fan- 
cying that  they  could    call  up  fountains 
of  their  own  in   the  desert.     And  thus, 
if  it  could  only  have  been  in  an  imper- 
fect    degree    that    the    self-evidencing 
power,   which  is   now   so   energetic    in 
Scripture,  resided  in  the  short  saying  to 
which   these  remarks  have  respect,  you 
have  only  to  bring  into  account  the  ac- 
tual state  of  the  multitude,  as  not  unac- 
quainted  with  the  supernatural  works 
performed  by   our  Lord,  and  you  have 
explanation  enough  why  so  great  a  dis- 
position to  acknowledge  Him  was  called 
forth  by  what  He  uttered  on  the  last  day 
of  the  feast,  why  many  of  the  people, 
when  they  heard  that  saying,  said,   "  Of 
a  truth,   this  is   the   Prophet,  or  this  is 
the  Christ." 

But  now  let  us  mix  a  train  with  the 
crowd,  and  hearken  to  some  other  of 
the  opinions  which  are  being  passed  to 
and  fro  in  regard  of  our  SaviOr.  There 
is  nothing  like  uniformity  of  sentiment : 
they  who  are  inclined  to  conclude  that 
He  can  be  none  other  than  the  long- 
promised  Christ,  find  themselves  met 
with  objections,  objections  which  are  all 
the  more  formidable,  because  professing 
to  ground  themselves  on  Scripture. 
"  But  some  said,  Shall  Christ  come  out 
of  Galilee  ]  "  There  is  no  attempt  at 
invalidating  the  miracles,  or  depreciating 
the  doctrines  of  our  Lord  ;  but  there 
was  a  fatal  argument,  as  these  men  urged, 
against  his  bein^  the  Messiah,  an  ar- 
gument deduced  from  ancient  prophecy, 
which  had  expressly  fixed  the  birthplace 
and  lineage  of  Christ.  "Hath  not  the 
scripture  said,  That  Christ  cometh  of 
the  seed  of  David,  and  out  of  the  town 
of  Bethlehem,  where  David  was  ?" 

No  doubt,  Scripture  had  said  this ; 
and  it.  would  have  been  an  insuperable 
objection  to  the  claims  of  any  one,  pro- 
fessimr.  himself  the  Messiah,  that  he  had 


VARIOUS   OPINIONS. 


43 


not  sprung  of  David's  line,  or  not  been 
born  in  Bethlehem.  If  our  Lord  had 
come  out  of  Galilee,  in  the  sense  sup- 
posed by  those  who  made  the  objection, 
it  would  be  of  no  avail  to  multiply  proofs 
of  his  having  been  the  Christ  :  the  evi- 
dence  is  against  Him  on  one  material 
point,  and  the  defect  is  not  to  be  coun- 
terbalanced by  any  amount  of  testimony 
on  other  particulars. 

But  this  is  really  among  the  most  sur- 
prising instances  on  record,  of  ignorance 
or  inattention,  if  we  may  not  go  further, 
and  accuse  men  of  wilfully  and  unblush- 
ingly  upholding  what  they  knew  to  be 
false.  It  is  hardly  possible  to  imagine 
a  matter  of  fact  that  might  have  been 
more  readily  ascertained,  than  that  our 
Lord  had  been  born  at  Bethlehem,  and 
that  his  mother  and  reputed  father  were 
of  the  lineage  of  David.  For  the  mas- 
sacre  of  the  innocents,  by  the  cruel  or- 
der of  the  tyrannical  Herod,  had  made 
his  birth  so  conspicuous,  that  it  almost 
passes  chanty,  that  any  could  have  been 
ignorant  that  He  had  not  sprung  from 
Galilee.  At  all  events,  when  his  parent- 
age and  birthplace  were  associated  with 
so  bloody  a  tragedy,  a  tragedy  which 
could  not  yet  have  faded  from  the  popu- 
lar mind,  the  very  slightest  inquiry  would 
have  sufficed  to  correct  so  gross  a  mis- 
apprehension. It  has  always  seemed  as 
if  God,  in  his  over-ruling  Providence, 
made  the  fury  of  Herod  subserve  the 
cause  of  the  Gospel ;  for  there  was  no 
one  left  but  our  Lord,  who  could  prove 
Himself  to  have  been  born  in  Bethlehem 
on  the  expiration  of  Daniel's  weeks  of 
years  :  all  others,  born  about  that  time, 
had  perished  by  the  sword;  and,  there- 
fore, either  He  were  the  Messiah,  or 
prophecy  had  failed. 

So  that — to  say  the  very  least — had 
men  taken  the  smallest  possible  trouble, 
they  might  have  known  that  our  Lord 
was  no  Galilean  in  such  sense  as  im- 
peached the  fulfilment  of  prophecy ; 
but  that,  on  the  contrary,  He  had  all 
that  evidence  on  his  side  which  could 
be  drawn  from  parentage  and  birthplace. 
They  might  have  fixed  on  other  predic- 
tions in  regard  of  the  Messiah,  the  ac- 
complishment  of  which  in  the  person  of 
our  Lord  was  not  of  sucli  clear  and  easy 
demonstration.  But  the  predictions 
which  had  to  do  with  his  nativity,  were 
just  those  on  which  we  should  have 
fastened,    as   intelligible  to   all  in  their 


meaning,  and  accessible  to  all  in  their 
fulfilment.  Yet  so  great  was  the  popu- 
lar indifference,  or  so  strong  the  popular 
prejudice,  that  a  statement  seems  to  have 
gone  uncontradicted  through  the  land, 
that  the  pretended  Messiah  was  by  birth 
a  Galilean  :  He  passed  by  the  name  of 
"Jesus  of  Nazareth  ;  "  and  this  went  in 
proof  that  He  was  not  born  in  Bethle- 
hem. Ay,  and  it  may  even  be  gathered 
from  our  text,  that  men  were  so  glad  of 
some  specious  excuse  for  rejecting  our 
Lord,  that,  when  his  works,  or  his  say- 
ings, had  almost  constrained  their  belief 
and  adherence,  they  caught  eagerly  at 
the  shallow  falsehood,  and  made  it,  with- 
out farther  evidence,  a  pretext  for  con- 
tinued opposition.  It  does  not  seem  that 
when  they  who  said,  "  This  is  the  Pro- 
phet," or,  "  This  is  the  Christ,"  found 
themselves  met  by  the  objection,  "  Shall 
Christ  come  out  of  Galilee,"  they  had 
any  reply  to  make  :  the  impression  from 
the  narrative  is — especially  if  you  couple 
it  with  the  known  fact  that  very  few  of 
the  people  joined  themselves  to  our 
Lord — that  they  considered  the  objec- 
tion decisive ;  that  they  were  ignorant 
of  the  facts  of  the  case,  and  took  no 
pains  to  inform  themselves  better.  In- 
deed, we  know  not  what  fairer  interpre- 
tation to  put  upon  the  circumstance, 
than  that  the  eagerness  to  disprove  the 
pretensions  of  Jesus  made  men  seize, 
without  examination,  on  any  popular 
mistake  which  seemed  to  justify  unbe- 
lief, and  then  avoid  the  finding  out  the 
mistake,  because  they  could  not  spare 
so  convenient  an  argument.  However 
numbers,  such  as  are  described  in  the 
text,  may  have  been  at  times  half  dis- 
posed to  acknowledge  the  Christ,  the 
secret  wish  of  their  hearts,  as  is  clear 
from  the  result,  must  all  along  have  been 
to  the  getting  rid  of  so  strict  and  uncom- 
promising a  teacher  ;  and  all  they  want- 
ed was  something  of  a  specious  pretence 
which  might  reconcile  to  their  con- 
science what  their  inclinations  prescri- 
bed. And  it  would  be  quite  a  treasure 
to  these  waverers,  to  meet  with  what 
might  pass  for  a  scriptural  objection  ;  it 
was  like  taking  holy  ground  :  it  was 
making  rejection  a  positive  duty  :  it  left 
them  at  liberty  to  admit  the  miracles, 
and  admire  the  doctrines,  but,  alas  !  this 
remarkable  Personage  did  not  answer 
to  certain  tests  laid  down  by  the  Pro- 
phets, and  there  was  no  alternative  to 


44 


VARIOUS  OPINIONS. 


the  refusing  to  receive  Him  as  the  pro- 
mised Redeemer. 

And  when  they  once  had  hold  of  the 
scriptural  objection,  they  would  be  at 
no  pains  to  examine  it  carefully  :  there 
would  be  danger  in  this;  and,  busied  as 
they  were  with  a  thousand  other  neces- 
sary things,  they  might  well  be  permit- 
ted to  take  for  granted  what  could 
hardly  have  been  alleged,  except  it  had 
been  truth — Jesus  universally  parsed 
for  a  Galilean,  and  mistake  was  insup- 
posable  in  regard  of  a  fact  so  easily  as- 
certained. O  the  deceitfulness  of  the 
heart !  what  force  it  will  find  in  an  ar- 
gument which  sides  with  its  wishes, 
what  fallacy  in  another  which  opposes 
them  !  Think  you  that  we  exaggerate 
what  whs  done  by  the  Jews  1  Nay,  we 
shall  presently  have  to  show  you  that 
they  are  not  without  their  copyists  even 
amongst  ourselves.  But,  at  present,  put, 
if  you  can,  any  milder  interpretation 
on  the  registered  facts.  God  might  be 
said  to  have  inscribed  the  nativity  of 
our  Lord  on  the  walls  of  Bethlehem,  in 
the  blood  of  its  slaughtered  infants.  The 
nativity,  which  produced  such  a  tragedy, 
could  not  have  been  difficult  to  ascertain, 
could  have  required  no  labored  research 
into  national  archives,  or  family  genealo- 
gies. Any  man  then,  who  knew  that 
prophecy  had  fixed  Bethlehem  as  the 
place  of  Messiah's  birth,  might  equally 
have  known,  had  he  thought  it  worth 
while  to  inquire,  that  there  had  He  been 
born  who  was  called  Jesus  of  Nazareth. 
But  men  had  an  interest  in  remaining 
deceived  ;  their  wish  was  not  that  of  as- 
certaining truth,  but  rather  that  of  find- 
ing a  specious  apology  for  adhering  to 
falsehood.  There  is  such  a  thing  as 
shrinking  from  inquiry,  through  a  secret 
dre*ad  of  finding  oneself  in  the  Wrong. 
A  man  may  abstain  from  asking  a  ques- 
tion, because  self-conscious  that  the  an- 
swer might  oblige  him  to  change  an 
opinion  which  he  would  rather  not  give 

And  this  is  what,  from  the  evidence 
before  us,  we  charge  upon  the  Jews. 
Oh,  it  looked  very  fine  to  have  Scripture 
on  their  side  ;  the  devil  had  used  the 
Bible  in  tempting  our  Lord,  and  they 
could  now  use  it  in  justifying  their  un- 
belief. But  "  the  sword  of  the  Spirit,  " 
like  every  other  sword,  may  be  used  for 
suicide  as  well  as  for  war.  And  if  ever 
so  used,  it  was  in  this  instance.     A  fact 


had  been  predicted,  and  in  characters 
of  blood  had  history  registered  the  pre- 
diction's fulfilment.  Yet  was  the  pre- 
diction, which,  for  the  trouble  of  ask- 
ing, would  have  powerfully  upheld  our 
Lord's  claims,  turned,  on  the  credit  of 
an  idle  report,  into  a  reason  for  their 
utter  rejection.  And  men,  who  were 
just  on  the  point  of  yielding  to  our  Lord, 
overcome  whether  by  the  majesty  of  his 
miracles,  or  the  sweetness  of  his  dis- 
courses, turned  away  from  Him,  and 
sealed  their  own  desti  uction,  because 
they  had  no  answer  at  hand,  or  took  for 
granted  that  none  could  be  given,  to  an 
objection  which  rested  on  a  falsehood, 
and  the  falsehood  one  which  a  breath 
might  have  scattered,  "  Shall  Christ 
come  out  of  Galilee?  Hath  not  the 
Scripture  saith  that  Christ  cometh  of 
the  seed  of  David,  and  out  of  the 
town  of  Bethlehem,  where  David  was  1  " 

And  now,  to  recur  to  our  introductory 
remarks,  which  asserted  a  sameness  in 
human  depravity  and  conduct,  think  ye 
that  the  like  to  this  is  not  of  frequent 
occurrence  amongst  ourselves  1  that  the 
Jews  have  no  successors  in  that  readi- 
ness to  disbelieve,  which  will  seize  on 
any  straw  for  an  argument,  and  actually 
be  at  pains  to  keep  out  of  the  way  of 
any  opposite  evidence  1  Nay,  it  is  done 
every  day  ;  we  need  not  search  far  to 
be  in  possession  of  instances. 

What  is  that  scepticism  which  is  of- 
ten met  with  amongst  the  boastful  and 
young,  that  sickly  infidelity,  which  it 
were  almost  pity  to  attack  with  vehe- 
mence, so  manifestly  unprepared  is  it 
for  vigorous  defence  1  Is  it  the  result 
of  deep  reading,  or  careful  investiga- 
tion 1  nothing  of  the  kind.  The  fashion- 
able young  man,  the  student  at  a  hos- 
pital, the  orator  at  some  juvenile  literary 
club,  gets  hold  of  some  objection  against 
Christianity,  which  has  a  specious  sound, 
and  a  formidable  look — all  the  better,  if 
it  come  out  of  the  Bible  itself,  in  the 
shape  of  an  alleged  contradiction,  or  an 
erroneous  assertion  ;  and  this  is  enough 
for  him  ;  he  has  his  "  Shall  Ghrst  come 
out  of  Galilee  1  "  and  with  one  so  de- 
cisive an  argument,  why  should  he 
trouble  himself  to  search  for  any  more] 
Oh,  no — you  are  quite  right ;  one  sound 
argument  is  as  good  as  a  host :  I  did 
not  blame  the  Jews  for  determining  that 
Jesus  could  not  be  the  Christ,  if  He 
had  come  out  of  Galilee  ;  no  amount  of 


VARIOUS  OPINIONS. 


45 


evidence  upon  other  points  could  have 
outweighed  this  simple  testimony  against 


Hi 


im. 


But  the   aspiring  sceptic  will  not  be 
at  the  pains  of  inquiring  into  the  strength 
of   his    objection.       He    will   not    refer 
to  hooks,  and,  much  less,  to  men  better 
informed  than  himself  in  order  to  know 
whether  the  objection   have  not  been  at 
least  a  hundred  times  refuted — and  this 
is  our  quarrel  with  him.     He  wishes  to 
continue  deceived  :  it  would  be  very  dis- 
tasteful   to    him  to  find  himself  in  the 
wrong,  and,  therefore,  he  would  rather 
avoid  than  seek  the  means  of  instruction. 
We  are  bold  to  say  of  all  the  popular 
arguments  against  the  Bible,  especially 
of  those  drawn  from  the  Bible  itself,  that 
thev  have   been   so  often  refuted,  their 
weakness   and    worthlessness    so    often 
exposed,   that  only  overbearing  effron- 
tery,   or    unpardonable  ignorance,   will 
venture  on  repeating  what  is  so  worn 
out  and  stale.     It  were  really,  if  I  may 
use    the  expression,    almost  a    refresh- 
ment,  to   meet   with   something  a  little 
new  in  sceptical  objections.     But  it  is 
the  same  thing  again  and  again — "  Shall 
Christ  come  out   of  Galilee  %  "  and  the 
sceptic,  like  the  Jew,  has  really  only  to 
look  round  him,  to  ask   a  question,  or 
consult  a  book,  and  he  would  find  that 
Jesus  did  not  come  out  of  Galilee,  but 
"  out  of  the  town  of  Bethlehem,  where 
David  was."      God  suffered  infants  to 
be  slain,  that  the  Jewish  unbelief  might 
be  inexcusable  ;   and  He  has  raised  up 
giants    in    his   Church,  whose    writings 
will  ever  be  a  rampart  to  the  Bible,  that 
modern  unbelief  might  be  alike  inexcus- 
able.    As   easily  may   any   one  of  you 
who    has     met    with  an    objection    to 
Christianity  meet  with  its  refutation,  as 
might  the  Jews,  hearing  that  Jesus  was 
of  Nazareth,  have  learned  that  He  was 
actually  of  Bethlehem.      But,  alas  !   it 
is  with   the   young  and  conceited,  as  it 
was  with  the  Jews — there  is  a  secret 
wish  to  be  rid  of  Christianity  ;   and  it  is 
safer  not  to  make  too  close  inquiry,  lest 
it  should   only  do  away  with  a  conve- 
nient excuse. 

And  we  do  not  give  this  case  of  the 
youthful  would-be  sceptic,  as  the  solita- 
ry exemplification  of"  Shall  Christ  come 
out  of  Galilee  %  "  How  fond  are  men 
of  getting  hold  of  some  one  text  of  Scrip- 
ture, and  shielding  themselves  under  it 
from  all  the  rest  of  the  Bible !     Who 


has  not  heard,  "  Be  not  righteous  over- 
much, "  quoted,  as  though  it  excused  a 
man  from  endeavouring  to  be  righteous 
at  all '  And  "  charity  shall  cover  a  mul- 
titude of  sins,"  is  a  most  convenient  pas- 
sage :  there  is  needed  only  a  little  mis- 
interpretation, and  a  careful  overlooking 
of  all  other  Scripture,  and  a  man  may 
satisfy  himself,  that,  by  a  little  liberality 
to  the  poor,  he  shall  hide  his  misdoings, 
or  obtain  their  forgiveness.  Every  such 
fastening  on  any  single  text,  without 
taking  pains  to  examine  and  consider 
whether  there  be  not  some  great  and 
fundamental  mistake,  is  but  the  repeti- 
tion of  what  was  done  by  the  Jews  ; 
the  Bible  has  said  that  Christ  must  come 
out  of  Bethlehem  ;  and  men  are  glad 
enough,  without  any  inquiry,  to  reject  a 
Gospel  whose  Author  is  reputed  to  have 
come  out  of  Nazareth. 

Shall  we  give  you  other  instances  1 
If  a  man  wish  to  depreciate  baptism,  or 
the  fitness  that  He  who  administers  so 
holy  an-  ordinance  should  have  a  com- 
mission from  God,  he  has  his  text,  his 
"Shall  Christ  come  out  of  Galilee1?" 
St.  Paul  said  to  the  Corinthians  "  I 
thank  God  that  I  baptized  none  of  you 
save  Crispus  and  Gaius.  For  Christ 
sent  me  not  to  baptize,  but  to  preach 
the  Gospel."  Then  St.  Paul  made  but 
little  of  baptism,  and  thought  that  the 
administering  it  fell  beneath  his  high 
office  !  Did  he  indeed  ?  why,  this  is 
worse  than  the  Jews  :  they  had  to  trav- 
el perhaps  as  far  as  to  Bethlehem,  to 
ascertain  their  mistake,  but  you  need 
not  go  beyond  the  next  verse  to  that 
which  you  quote,  "  Lest  any  should  say 
that  I  had  baptized  in  mine  own  name. " 
Paul  was  thankful  that  he  had  baptized 
but  few ;  for  he  judged,  from  the  temper 
of  the  Corinthian  Church,  that,  had  he 
baptized  many,  it  would  only  have  en- 
couraged that  party-spirit  which  was  so 
utterly  at  variance  with  vital  Christiani- 
ty. And  this  is  making  light  of  Bap- 
tism, or  entitling  any  one  to  administer 
it  !  Alas,  it  seems  of  very  little  worth 
that  Jesus  was  actually  born  at  Bethle- 
hem, since  his  ordinary  name  is  "  Jesus 
of  Nazareth." 

To  take  but  one  instance  more.  What 
numbers  declaim  against  an  Established 
Church  !  how  persuaded  are  they  that 
it  is  utterly  unlawful  for  the  civil  power 
to  meddle  with  religion,  to  take  direct 
measures  for  the  upholding  Christianity, 


46 


VARIOUS  OPINIONS. 


in  place  of  leaving  it  to  that  purest  and 
most  active  instrumentality,  "  the  volun- 
tary principle."  You  may  be  sure  that 
these  declaimers  have  their  text  :  they 
have  their  question,  "Shall  Christ  come 
out  of  Galilee,"  out  of  acts  of  parlia- 
ment, and  compulsory  payments  1  Hath 
He  not  said,  "  My  kingdom  is  not  of 
this  world  1  "  O  the  triumphant  tone 
with  which  these  words  are  uttered,  the 
complacency  with  which  they  are  con- 
sidered as  settling  the  controversy,  and 
dissn-acino'  endowments  !  But  have  the 
words  any  thing  to  do  with  the  matter  "? 
in  what  sense  did  Christ  mean  that  his 
kingdom  was  not  of  this  world  ]  Nay, 
Bethlehem  is  not  farther,  in  this  case, 
from  Galilee,  than  in  that  last  adduced. 
They  are  both  in  one  verse.  "  My 
kingdom  is  not  of  this  world  ;  if  my 
kingdom  were  of  this  world,  then  would 
my  servants  fight  that  I  should  not  be 
delivered  to  the  Jews."  So  then,  the 
sense,  as  hei'e  defined,  in  which  Christ's 
kingdom  is  not  of  this  world,  is  simply 
that  the  sword  is  not  to  be  used  in  its 
defence.  "  If  my  kingdom  were  of  this 
world,"  my  servants  would  fight  like 
other  soldiers  ;  but  it  forbids  persecution 
and  war ;  so  that  it  is  "  not  of  this 
woidd,"  in  the  sense  of  allowing,  or  de- 
pending on  martial  force  or  resistance. 
What  has  this  to  do  with  Church  Es- 
tablishments 1  Alas !  this  text,  which 
is  noised  from  one  end  of  the  land  to 
the  other,  is,  for  all  the  world,  the  same 
in  the  hands  of  its  perverters,  as  "Hath 
not  the  Scripture  said  that  Christ  cometh 
out  of  Bethlehem?  "  in  the  hands  of  the 
Jews.  Because  Christ  was  of  Naza- 
reth, as  having  lived  there  much,  He 
could  not  have  been  born  in  Bethlehem  : 


because  his  kingdom  is  not  of  this  world, 
as  not  permitting  the  slaughter  of  its 
enemies,  it  cannot  lawfully  be  fostered 
by  states  which  are  its  friends. 

But  we  have  no  further  space  for  mul- 
tiplying instances.  We  have  thrown 
out  a  subject  for  thought ;  and  if  you  will 
consider  for  yourselves,  you  will  easily 
find  additional  illustrations.  It  is  no  un- 
common thing — this  is  our  position — for 
men  to  seize  on  some  one  verse  or  de- 
claration of  the  Bible,  and  to  make  it 
their  excuse  for  clintnno:  to  a  false  theo- 
ry,  or  neglecting  a  plain  duty.  Not  that 
in  any  case  the  verse,  justly  interpreted 
and  applied,  will  bear  them  out — no 
more  than  the  prophecy  as  to  Bethle- 
hem warranted  the  Jews  in  rejecting 
Jesus  of  Nazareth.  But  there  may  be 
an  appearance  of  reason,  something 
plausible  and  specious  ;  and  error  can 
never  be  more  dangerous  than  when  it 
seems  to  have  Scripture  on  its  side. 
The  grand  point  then  is,  that  you  be  on 
your  guard  against  arguing  from  bits  of 
the  Bible,  in  place  of  studying  the  whole, 
and  comparing  its  several  parts.  "  No 
prophecy  of  the  Scripture,"  and,  in  like 
manner,  no  portion  of  the  Scripture,  "  is 
of  any  private  interpretation."  Settle  the 
meaning  fairly,  by  searching,  with  pray- 
er for  God's  Spirit,  into  the  relation 
which  each  statement  bears  to  others, 
and  by  examining  the  light  which  it  de- 
rives from  them.  The  meaning,  thus 
ascertained,  shall  never,  no,  never  be 
contradicted  by  facts ;  if  it  be  clear  from 
the  Bible  that  the  Christ  must  be  bom  in 
Bethlehem,  it  shall  be  always  be  found, 
on  examining,  that  our  Lord  was  noL 
born  in  Nazareth. 


THE  MISREPRESENTATIONS  OF  EVE. 


47 


SERMON    VI. 


THE  MISREPRESENTATIONS  OF  EVE. 


"  And  the  woman  said  unto  the  serpent,  We  may  eat  of  the  fruit  of  the  trees  of  the  garden  :  but  of  the  fruit  of  the 
tree  which  is  in  the  midst  of  the  garden,  God  hath  said,  Ye  shall  not  eat  of  it,  neither  shall  ye  touch  it,  lest  ye 
die." — Genesis  iii.  2,  3. 


Whatever  may  have  been  the  change 
which  passed  over  man  in  consequence 
of  sin,  we  are  not  to  doubt  that  we  re- 
tain, in  great  measure,  the  same  consti- 
tution, weakened  indeed  and  deranged, 
but  compounded  of  the  same  elements, 
and  possessing  similar  powers  and  ten- 
dencies. There  does  not  appear  to  have 
been  any  essential  difference  between  the 
mode  in  which  Satan  tempted  Eve,  and 
that  wherein  he  would  assault  any  one  of 
ourselves  under  similar  circumstances. 
Neither,  so  far  as  Eve  allowed  the 
bodily  senses  to  serve  as  instruments  of 
temptation,  have  we  reason  to  think  that 
the  trial  at  all  differed  from  that  to 
which  the  like  inlets  subject  ourselves. 
The  devil  threw  in  a  suspicion  as  to 
the  goodness  of  God,  suggesting  that 
the  restriction  as  to  the  not  eating  of  a 
particular  fruit  was  harsh  and  uncalled 
for,  and  insinuating,  moreover,  that  the 
results  of  disobedience  would  be  just 
the  reverse  of  what  had  been  threaten- 
ed. And,  certainly,  this  is  much  the 
way  in  which  Satan  still  proceeds  : 
whatever  the  commandment,  our  obedi- 
ence to  which  is  being  put  to  the  proof, 
he  tries  to  make  us  feel  that  the  com- 
mandment is  unnecessarily  severe,  and 
that,  in  all  probability,  the  infringing  it 
will  not  be  visited  with  such  vengeance 
as  has  been  denounced.. 

Thus  also  with  regard  to  the  bodily 
senses.  Eve  was  tempted  through  the 
eye,  for  she  saw  that  the  tree  was  plea- 
sant to  the  sight ;  she  was  tempted  also 
through  the  appetite,  for  she  saw  that  the 
tree  was  good  for  food.  And  this  was 
precisely  as  the  senses  are  now  instru- 
mental to  the  service  of  sin:  no  doubt 


now  that  our  nature  has  become  depra- 
ved, these  senses  are  readier  avenues 
than  before  for  the  entrance  of  sin  into 
the  heart  :  but,  nevertheless,  the  eye  and 
the  taste,  in  the  instance  of  Eve  before 
she  transgressed,  acted  a  part  of  the  very 
same  kind  as  they  peform  now  in  cases 
of  every  day  experience. 

Indeed  it  ought  to  be  observed  that, 
according  to  St.  John,  all  the  sin  that 
tempts  mankind  may  be  comprised  in 
these  three  tei*ms,  "  the  lust  of  the  flesh; 
the  lust  of  the  eye,  and  the  pride  of  life." 
To  these  three  may  evidently  be  reduced 
the  temptation  of  our  first  parents  :  there 
was  "the  lust  of  the  flesh,"  in  that  the 
fruit  was  desired  as  good  for  food ;  "  the 
lust  of  the  eye,"  in  that  the  fruit  was 
pleasant  to  the  sight ;  and  "  the  pride  of 
life,"  in  that  it  was  "  to  be  desired  to 
make  one  wise."  To  the  same  three 
may  as  evidently  be  reduced  the  tempta- 
tion of  the  second  Adam,  the  Lord  Je- 
sus Christ,  who,  on  this  very  account, 
may  be  declared  to  have  been  "  tempted 
in  all  points  like  as  we  are."  Our 
blessed  Savior  was  assailed  through 
"  the  lust  of  the  flesh,"  when  tempted 
to  satisfy  his  hunger  by  turning  stones 
into  br-ead.  "  The  lust  of  the  eye  "  was 
employed,  when  the  devil  would  have 
had  Him  cast  Himself  from  a  pinnacle 
of  the  Temple,  and  thus  obtain,  by  an 
useless  and  ostentatious  miracle,  the  ap- 
plauses of  the  crowd  assembled  there 
for  worship.  And  "  the  pride  of  life  " 
was  appealed  to,  when  Satan  proffered 
our  Lord  "  all  the  kingdoms  of  the  world 
and  their  glory,"  on  condition  of  his 
falling  down  and  worshipping  him. 

These   three   departments   are    still 


48 


THE   MISREPRESENTATIONS   OF   EVE. 


those  under  which  all  sin  may  be  ranged. 
If  you  take  any  particular  temptation, 
you  may  always  make  it  answer  to  one 
of*  the  terms,  "  the  lust  of  the  flesh,  the 
lust  of  the  eye,  and  the  pride  of  life." 
So  that — to  recur  to  our  introductory 
remark — there  passed  no  such  change 
on  human  nature  in  consequence  of 
apostasy,  as  that  the  elements  of  our 
constitution  became  different  from  what 
they  were.  If  our  first  parents,  whilst 
yet  unfallen,  were  assailed  in  the  same 
way,  and  through  the  same  channels,  as 
ourselves  on  whom  they  fastened  coi-- 
ruption  :  if  our  blessed  Redeemer,  who 
took  our  nature  without  taint  of  oriiri- 
nal  sin,  was  tempted  in  the  modes  in 
which  temptation  still  makes  its  ap- 
proaches ;  we  may  most  justly  conclude 
that  our  constitution  remains  what  it 
was,  except,  indeed,  that  our  moral 
powers  have  been  grievously  weakened, 
and  that  a  bias  towards  evil  has  been 
laid  on  our  affections,  which  places  us 
at  a  real  disadvantage,  whensoever  as- 
sailed by  the  world,  the  flesh,  or  the  devil. 

But  when  we  have  thus  in  a  measure 
identified  our  constitution  with  that  of 
our  first  pai'ents  before  they  transgress- 
ed, it  is  highly  interesting  and  instruct- 
ive to  study  all  the  circumstances  of  the 
original  temptation,  and  to  see  whether 
they  may  not  still  be  often,  and  accu- 
rately paralleled.  So  long  as  we  sepa- 
rate, or  so  distinguish,  ourselves  from 
our  first  parents  in  their  unfallen  state, 
as  though  there  had  been  an  actual  dif- 
ference in  nature,  the  account  of  the 
original  transgression  is  little  more  to 
us  than  a  curious  record,  from  which  we 
can  hardly  think  to  derive  many  person- 
al lessons.  But  when  we  have  ascertain- 
ed that  our  first  parents  were  ourselves, 
only  with  moral  powers  in  unbroken 
vigor,  and  with  senses  not  yet  degraded 
to  the  service  of  evil,  the  history  of 
their  fall  assumes  all  the  interest  which 
belongs  to  the  narrative  of  events,  which 
not  merely  involve  us  in  their  conse- 
quences, but  the  repetition  of  which  is 
likely  to  occur,  and  should  be  earnestly 
guarded  against. 

We  wish,  therefore,  on  the  present 
occasion,  to  examine  with  all  careful- 
ness the  workings  of  Eve's  mind  at 
that  critical  moment  when  the  devil, 
under  the  form  of  a  serpent,  sought  to 
turn  her  away  from  her  allegiance  to 
God.     This  is  no  mere  curious  exami- 


nation, as  it  might  indeed  be,  had  Eve, 
before  she  yielded  to  temptation,  been 
differently  constituted  from  one  of  our- 
selves. But  i^  has  been  the  object  of 
our  foregoing  remarks,  to  show  you  that 
there  was  not  this  difference  in  consti- 
tution :  a  piece  of  mechanism  may  have 
its  springs  disordered  and  its  workings 
deranged  ;  but  it  is  not  a  different  piece 
of  mechanism  from  what  it  was  when 
every  part  was  in  perfect  operation  ; 
and  we  may  find,  as  we  go  on,  that  the 
workings  of  Eve's  mind  were  wonder- 
fully similar  to  those  of  our  own,  so  that 
we  shall  not  only  sustain  all  our  forego- 
ing argument,  but  be  able  to  present  our 
common  mother  as  a  warning,  and  to 
derive  from  her  fall  instruction  of  the 
most  practical  and  personal  kind.  With- 
out then  further  preface — though  you 
must  bear  in  mind  what  we  have  ad- 
vanced, that  you  may  not  think  to  evade 
the  application  of  the  subject,  by  ima- 
gining differences  between  Eve  and 
yourselves — let  us  go  to  the  patient  con- 
sideration of  the  several  statements  of 
our  text ;  let  us  examine  what  may  be 
gathered  in  regard  of  the  exact  state  of 
Eve's  mind,  from  her  mode  of  putting, 
first,  the  permission  of  God,  "  We  may 
eat  of  the  fruit  of  the  trees  of  the  gar- 
den," and  secondly,  his  prohibition, 
"  The  fruit  of  the  tree  which  is  in  the 
midst  of  the  garden,  ye  shall  not  eat  of 
it,  neither  shall  ye  touch  it,  lest  ye  die." 
Now  the  point  of  time  at  which  we 
have  to  take  Eve  is  one  at  which  she  is 
evidently  begimiing  to  waver  :  she  has 
allowed  herself  to  be  drawn  into  con- 
versation with  the  serpent,  which  it 
would  have  been  wise  in  her,  especially 
as  her  husband  was  not  by,  to  have  de- 
clined ;  and  there  is  a  sort  of  unacknow- 
ledged restlessness,  an  uneasiness  of 
feeling,  as  though  God  might  not  be 
that  all-wise  and  all-gracious  Beintr 
which  she  had  hitherto  supposed.  She 
has  not  yet,  indeed,  proceeded  to  actual 
disobedience  :  but  she  is  Clearly  giving 
some  entertainment  to  doubts  and  sus- 
picions :  she  has  not  yet  broken  God's 
commandment ;  but  she  is  looking  at  it 
with  a  disposition  to  question  its  good- 
ness, and  depreciate  the  risk  of  setting 
it  at  nought.  There  .are  certain  preludes, 
or  approaches,  towards  sin,  which,  even 
in  ourselves,  are  scarcely  to  be  designa- 
ted sin,  and  which  must  have  been  still 
farther  removed  from  it  in  the  unfallen 


THE   MISREPRESENTATIONS  OF  EVE. 


4D 


Eve.  You  remember  how  St.  James 
speaks,  ".Every  man  is  tempted,  when 
he  is  drawn  away  of  his  own  lust,  and 
enticed.  Then  when  lust  hath  conceiv- 
ed, it  bringeth  forth  sin."  The  Apostle, 
you  observe,  does  not  give  the  name  of 
sin  to  the  first  motions  :  if  these  motions 
were  duly  resisted,  as  they  might  be, 
the  man  would  have  been  tempted,  but 
not  have  actually  sinned. 

And-  if  so  much  may  be  allowed  of 
ourselves,  in  whom  inclinations  and  pro- 
pensities are  corrupted  and  depraved 
through  original  sin,  much  more  must 
it  have  been  true  of  Eve,  when,  if  tot- 
tering, she  had  not  yet  fallen  from  her 
first  estate.  She  was  then  still  innocent : 
but  there  were  feeling-s  at  work  which 
were  fast  bringing  her  to  the  edge  of 
the  precipice  ;  and  it  is  on  the  indica- 
tion of  these  feelings  that,  for  the  sake 
of  warning  and  example,  we  wish  espe- 
cially to  fix  your  attention. 

It  was  a  large  and  liberal  grant  which 
God  had  made  to  man  of  the  trees  of 
the  garden.  "  Of  every  tree  of  the  gar- 
den thou  mayest  freely  eat."  It  is  true, 
indeed,  there  was  one  exception  to  this 
permission  :  man  was  not  to  eat  of  "  the 
tree  of  the  knowledge  of  good  and  evil ;  " 
but  of  every  other  tree  he  might  not 
only  eat,  he  was  told  to  "eat  freely," 
as  though  God  would  assure  him  of  their 
being  all  unreservedly  at  his  disposal. 
But  now,  observe,  that,  when  Eve  comes 
to  recount  this  generous  grant,  she 
leaves  out  the  word  "  freely,"  and  thus 
may  be  said  to  depreciate  its  liberality. 
"  We  may  eat  of  the  fruit  of  the  trees 
of  the  garden."  This  is  but  a  cold  ver- 
sion of  the  large-hearted  words,  "  Of 
every  tree  of  the  garden  thou  mayest 
freely  eat."  She  is  evidently  more  dis- 
posed to  dwell  on  the  solitary  restriction 
than  on  the  generous  permission  :  she 
is  thinking  more  of  the  hardship  from 
the  one  than  of  the  privilege  from  the 
other.  It  was  a  bad,  a  dangerous  symp- 
tom, that  Eve  suffered  herself  to  look 
slightingly  on  the  rich  mercies  with 
which  she  was  blessed,  and  that  she 
could  speak  of  those  mercies,  if  not  in 
a  disparaging  tone,  at  least  without  that 
grateful  acknowledgement  which  their 
abundance  demanded.  It  laid  her  pe- 
rilously open  to  the  insinuations  of  Sa- 
tan, that  she  was  contrasting  what  she 
had  not,  magnifying  the  latter,  and  de- 
preciating the  former. 


But  is  not  the  symptom  one  which 
may  be  frequently  found  amongst  our- 
selves ?  Indeed  it  is  ;  and  we  point  it 
out  in  the  instance  of  Eve,  that  each  one 
of  you  may  learn  to  watch  it  in  himself 
There  is  in  all  of  us  a  disposition  to  think 
little  of  what  God  gives  us  to  enjoy,  and 
much  of  what  He  gives  us  to  suffer.  It 
may  be  but  one  tree  which  He  with- 
holds, and  there  may  be  a  hundred 
which  He  grants  :  but,  alas  !  the  one, 
because  withheld,  will  seem  to  multiply 
into  the  hundred,  the  hundred,  because 
granted,  to  shrink  into  the  one.  If  He 
take  from  us  a  single  blessing,  how  much 
more  ready  are  we  to  complain  as  though 
we  had  lost  all,  than  to  count  up  what 
remain,  and  give  Him  thanks  for  the 
multitude.  He  has  but  to  forbid  us  a 
single  gratification,  and,  presently,  we 
speak  as  though  He  had  dealt  with  us 
with  a  churlish  and  niggardly  hand, 
though,  were  we  to  attempt  to  reckon 
the  evidences  of  his  loving-kindness, 
they  are  more  in  number  than  the  hairs 
of  our  head.  And  when  we  suffer  our- 
selves in  any  measure  to  speak,  or  think, 
disparagingly  of  the  mercies  of  God,  it 
is  very  evident  that  we  are  making  way 
for,  if  not  actually  indulging,  suspicions 
as  to  the  goodness  of  God ;  and  it  can- 
not be  necessary  to  prove  that  he,  who 
allows  himself  to  doubt  die  Divine  good- 
ness, is  preparing  himself  for  the  breach 
of  any  and  every  commandment. 

Learn  then  to  be  very  watchful  over 
this  moral  symptom.  Be  very  fearful 
of  depreciating  your  mercies.  It  shew- 
ed an  intenseness  of  danger  in  the  in- 
stance  of  Eve,  that,  when  God  had  given 
her  permission  to  "  eat  freely,"  she  could 
speak  of  herself  as  permitted  only  to 
"  eat."  There  was  no  falsehood  in  her  ac- 
count of  the  permission  :  she  does  not 
deny  that  she  was  allowed  to  eat  of  the 
trees  of  the  garden ;  but  there  was  a  dis- 
satisfied and  querulous  way  of  putting  the 
permission,  as  though  she  avoided  the 
word  "  freely,"  that  she  might  not  mag- 
nify the  riches  of  the  Divine  liberality. 
And  we  warn  you,  by  the  fall  of  Eve, 
against  the  allowing  yourselves  to  think 
slisfhtinoflv  of  vour  mercies.  It  matters 
not  what  may  be  your  trials,  what  your 
afflictions  : — none  of  you  can  be  so  strip- 
ped but  what,  if  he  will  think  over  the 
good  which  God  has  left  in  his  posses- 
sion, he  will  find. cause  for  acknowledg- 
ing in  God  a  gracious  and  a  generous 
7 


50 


THE  MISREPRESENTATIONS  OF  EVE. 


benefactor.  But  if,  because  you  are  de- 
barred from  this  or  that  enjoyment,  or 
because  this  or  that  blessing  is  placed 
out  of  reach,  you  make  little  of,  or  com- 
paratively forget,  the  rich  gifts  of  God  ; 
ah  !  then  indeed  there  is  a  fearful  pro- 
bability of  your  being  left  to  harden  into 
the  unthankful  and  unbelieving :  with 
Eve,  you  may  seem  only  to  leave  out 
the  word  "freely;"  but  God,  who  is 
jealous  as  well  as  generous,  may  punish 
the  omission  by  such  withdrawment  of 
his  grace  as  shall  be  followed  by  open 
violation  of  his  law. 

O  for  hearts  to  magnify  the  Lord's 
mercies,  and  count  up  his  loving-kind- 
nesses !  It  is  "  freely "  that  He  has 
permitted  us  to  eat  of  the  trees  of  the 
garden.  He  has  imposed  no  harsh  re- 
strictions, none  but  what,  shortsighted 
though  we  are,  we  may  already  perceive 
designed  for  our  good.  Placed  as  we 
are  amid  a  throng  of  mercies,  rich  fruits 
already  ripened  for  our  use,  and  richer 
maturing  as  our  portion  for  eternity, 
shall  we  speak  of  Him  as  though  He 
had  dealt  out  sparingly  the  elements  of 
happiness  I  Shall  we — just  because 
there  is  forbidden  fruit,  of  which  we  are 
assured  that  to  eat  it  is  to  die  ;  or  with- 
ered fruit,  of  which  we  should  believe 
that  it  would  not  have  been  blighted  un- 
less to  make  us  seek  better — shall  we 
deny  the  exuberant  provision  which  God 
hath  made  for  us  as  intelligent,  account- 
able creatures  1  Shall  we  forget  the 
abundance  with  which  He  has  mantled 
the  earth,  the  gorgeous  clusters  with 
which  He  has  hung  the  firmament,  the 
blessings  of  the  present  life,  the  promi- 
ses of  a  future,  and  the  munificent  grant 
with  which  He  has  installed  us  as  Chris- 
tians into  a  sort  of  universal  possession, 
"All  things  are  yours;  ye  are  Christ's, 
and  Christ  is  God's  %  " 

Nay,  we  again  say,  take  ye  good  heed 
of  misrepresenting  God,  of  depreciating 
your  mercies,  of  exaggerating  your 
losses.  There  cannot  be  a  worse  sign, 
a  sign  of  greater  moral  peril,  than  when 
a  man  repines  at  what  is  lost,  as  though 
there  were  not  much  more  left,  and 
dwells  more  on  God  as  withholding  cer- 
tain things,  than  as  bestowing  a  thou- 
sand times  as  many.  And  that  you  may 
be  aware  of  the  dansrerousness  of  the 
symptom,  and  thereby  led  to  cultivate  a 
thankful  spirit,  a  spirit  disposed  to  com- 
pare what  God  gives  with  what  He  de- 


nies ; — a  comparison  which  will  always 
make  the  latter  seem  little,  because  im- 
measurably exceeded  by  the  former — 
study  with  all  care  the  instance  of  Eve, 
and  observe  that  her  first  indication  of 
tottering  towards  her  fatal  apostasy  lay  in 
this,  that,  when  God  had  issued  the  large 
and  generous  charter,  "  Of  every  tree 
of  the  garden  thou  mayest  freely  eat," 
she  could  reduce  it  into  the  cold  and 
measured  allowance,  "  We  may  eat  of 
the  fruit  of  the  trees  of  the  garden." 

But  we  may  go  farther  in  tracing  in 
Eve  the  workings  of  a  dissatisfied  mind, 
of  a  disposition  to  suspect  God  of  harsh- 
ness, notwithstanding  the  multiplied 
evidences  of  his  goodness.  You  are 
next  to  observe  how  she  speaks  of  the 
prohibition  in  regard  of  "  the  tree  of 
knowledge  of  good  and  evil."  She  left 
out  a  most  important  and  significant 
word  in  stating  God's  permission  as  to 
the  trees  of  the  garden,  and  thus  did 
much  to  divest  that  permission  of  its 
generous  character.  But  she  inserted 
words  when  she  came  to  mention  the 
prohibition,  and  by  that  means  invested 
it  with  more  of  strictness  and  severity 
than  God  seems  to  have  designed.  The 
prohibition  as  it  issued  from  God  was, 
"  Of  the  tree  of  the  knowledge  of  °ood 
and  evil,  thou  shaft  not  eat  of  it."  But 
the  prohibition  as  repeated  by  Eve  was, 
"  Of  the  fruit  of  the  tree  which  is  in  the 
midst  of  the  garden,  God  hath  said,  Ye 
shall  not  eat  of  it,  neither  shall  ye  touch 
it."  She  affirmed,  you  observe,  that 
God  had  forbidden  the  touching  the  fruit 
as  well  as  the  eating  of  it;  whereas  it 
does  not  appear  that  God  had  said  any- 
thing as  to  the  touching.  There  misrht 
indeed  have  been  prudence  in  not  touch- 
ing what  might  not  be  eaten ;  for  he  who 
allowed  himself  to  handle  would  be  very 
likely  to  allow  himself  to  taste.  Still, 
the  touching  the  fruit  was  not,  as  far  as 
we  know,  actually  forbidden  by  God ; 
and  we  may  therefore  say  of  Eve,  that 
she  exaggerated  the  prohibition,  even  as 
she  had  before  disparaged  the  permis- 
sion. 

And  you  will  readily  perceive  that 
precisely  the  same  temper  or  feeling 
was  at  work  when  Eve  exaggerated  the 
prohibition,  and  when  she  disparaged 
the  permission.  There  was  in  both  cases 
the  s  ame  inclination  to  misrepresent  God, 
as  though  He  dealt  harshly  with  his 
creatures  :  to  leave  out  the  word  "  free- 


THE   MISREPRESENTATIONS  OF  EVE. 


51 


ly "  was  to  make  his  grant  look  less 
liberal ;  to  put  in  the  words,  "  neither 
shall  ye  touch  it,"  was  to  make  his  law 
look  more  rigid  ;  and  it  was  evidently 
the  dictate  of  the  same  rising  suspicion, 
or  a  part  of  the  same  tacit  accusation, 
when  Grod's  gifts  were  depreciated,  and 
when  his  restrictions  were  magnified. 

Alas  for  Eve,  that  she  could  thus  as- 
cribe harshness  to  God,  and  speak  as 
though  He  denied  his  creatures  any  ap- 
proach towards  knowledge.  She  might 
as  well  have  said  that  God  had  forbid- 
den them  to  look  upon  the  tree  ;  where- 
as it  is  clear  that  not  only  might  they 
look  at  the  fruit,  but  that  the  eye  was 
able  to  detect  certain  properties  of  the 
fruit;  for  you  read  that  "the  woman 
saw  that  the  tree  was  good  for  food," 
the  color  probably  informing  her  some- 
thing- of  its  nature.  And  we  cannot  tell 
what  additional  information  might  have 
been  obtained  through  touching  the  fruit. 
But  if  the  eye  could  detect  certain  pro- 
perties, the  touch,  in  all  probability,  de- 
tected more.  Even  in  the  darkness  and 
feebleness  into  which  we  have  fallen, 
each  sense  is  instrumental  to  the  ascer- 
taining the  qualities  of  substances;  and 
this  power  of  the  senses  must  have  been 
vastly  greater  in  our  first  parents;  Adam 
gave  names  to  every  living  creature,  the 
names  undoubtedly  being  expressive  of 
the  natures,  and  thus  showed  that  he 
could  ascertain  at  once,  without  any  in- 
formant but  himself,  their  several  cha- 
racteristics. 

We  may,  therefore,  reasonably  infer 
that,  whilst  eating  of  the  tree  of  know- 
ledge was  distinctly  forbidden,  and  thus 
our  first  parents  were  debarred  from 
such  discoveries  as  the  sense  of  taste 
might  have  imparted,  they  were  able  to 
determine  a  great  deal  in  regard  of  the 
fruit,  through  their  other  senses,  of 
which  they  were  allowed  the  unrestrict- 
ed use.  But  Eve,  you  see,  was  disposed 
to  make  out  that  God  had  extended  his 
prohibition  to  other  senses  besides  that 
of  taste,  and  thus  had  prevented  them 
from  making  any  advance  towards  the 
knowledge  of  good  and  of  evil.  You 
would  have  argued,  from  her  version  of 
the  prohibition,  that  God  had  altogether 
enclosed,  or  shut  up  the  tree,  guarding 
it  with  the  most  extreme  jealousy  and 
rigor,  so  that  there  was  no  possibility  of 
detecting  any  of  its  properties.  Where- 
as the  restriction  was    only  on  the  ex- 


amining the  fruit,  in  and  through  that 
sense  which  would  make  it  bring- death  ; 
and  there  was  the  warrant  of  the  Divine 
word,  that  to  taste  would  be  to  die.  All 
that  could  be  learnt — and  it  was  proba- 
bly very  considerable — from  sight,  and 
touch,  and  scent,  Adam  and  Eve  were 
at  libeity  to  learn ;  whilst  what  the  taste 
could  have  taught  was  distinctly  reveal- 
ed ;  and  thus  the  single  prohibition  did 
not  so  much  withhold  them  from  the  ac- 
quisition of  knowledge,  as  from  the  ex- 
perience of  disaster. 

But  now,   was  Eve   singular   in  the 
misrepresenting  the  prohibition  of  God  1 
was  she  not  rather  doing  what  has  been 
done  ever  since,  what  is  done  every  day 
by  those  who  would  excuse  themselves 
from  the  duties  and  obligations   of  reli- 
gion  1     To  hear  men  of  the  world  talk 
about  religion,  you  might  imagine  that 
God's  law  forbade  all  enjoyment  what- 
soever of  the  pleasures  and  satisfactions 
of  life,   that  it  prescribed  nothing  but 
gloom  and  austei'ity,  and  required  from 
those  who  would  save  the  soul,  that  they 
should  forego  every  gratification  which 
their  nature  solicits.     They  will  talk  to 
you  of  piety,  as  if  it  were  necessarily  of 
a  most  morose  and  melancholy  tenor,  as 
if  it  debarred  men  from  all  participation 
in  visible  good,  requiring  them  to  move 
amid  what  is  bright,  and  beautiful,  and 
attractive  in  creation,  but  only  that  they 
might  mortify    the   propensities    which 
find  therein   their  counterpart    objects. 
Because  God  has  distinctly  forbidden  our 
finding  our  chief  good  in  earthly  things, 
because  He  has  limited  us  to  a  moderate 
or  temperate  use  of  these  things,  there- 
fore will  men  perversely  misrepresent 
his  enactments,    and  pretend    that    He 
would  shut  them  up  in  the  most  dismal 
seclusion,  as  though  He  had  given  them 
appetites  which  were  not  to  be  gratified, 
desires  which  were  only  to  be  resisted, 
and  yet,  all  the  while,   had  surrounded 
them  with  what  those  appetites  crave, 
and    those    desires    solicit.      Whereas, 
there  is  nothing  prohibited  by  the   Di- 
vine law  but  just  .that  indulgence  of  our 
appetites  and   desires,   which,   because 
excessive  and  irregular,  would,  from  our 
very    constitution,  be  visited  with  pre- 
sent disappointment  and  remorse,  and, 
from  the  necessary  character  of  a  retri- 
butive   government,    with    future    ven- 
geance and  death. 

We   suppose  it   capable    of    a  most 


52 


THE  MISREPRESENTATIONS  OF  EVE. 


thorough  demonstration,  that  the  man 
of  religion,  the  man  who  allows  himself 
in  no  indulgence  which  religion  forbids, 
whose  appetites  are  never  his  masters, 
but  who  is  "  temperate  in  all  things," 
has  more  actual  enjoyment,  even  of  what 
earth  can  afford,  than  the  reckless  slave 
of  sense,  who,  in  the  expressive  lan- 
guage of  Scripture,  would  "  work  all 
uncleanness  with  greediness.  "  And 
there  never,  we  believe,  was  a  falser 
charge  than  that  which  would  fasten 
upon  religion  such  a  severe  code  of 
precepts,  and  such  a  stern  series  of 
sacrifices,  as  must  make  its  disciples  do 
perpetual  violence  to  their  feelings,  and 
live  within  reach  of  pleasures  in  which 
they  must  deny  themselves  all  share  : 
whilst  they  who  renounce  religion  are  di- 
viding amongst  themselves  whatever 
good  the  present  life  can  give.  Religion 
forbids  all  that  is  irregular  or  excessive  in 
the  use  of  earthly  things  ;  but  it  forbids 
nothing  more  ;  and  whilst  we  are  con- 
stituted as  we  are,  whilst  there  is  no 
slavery  so  oppressive  as  the  being  slaves 
to  our  own  lusts,  whilst  there  are  the  ir- 
repressible workings  within  us  of  a 
great  moral  principle,  causing  uneasi- 
ness, and  even  anguish,  to  follow  on 
criminal  indulgence — nay,  it  is  no  boast  of 
idle  declamation,  it  is  the  statement  of 
a  simple  and  sober  calculation,  that  the 
religious  man,  partaking  only  so  far  as 
religion  permits,  enjoys,  in  a  much  high- 
er degree  than  the  thorough-paced  world 
ling,  the  very  objects  for  which  that 
worldling  throws  away  his  soul. 

Thus  God  is  just  doing  with  us  as  He 
did  with  our  first  parents  in  regard  of 
the  tree  of  knowledge.  He  did  not  al- 
together debar  them  from  that  tree  ;  He 
only  debarred  them  from  eating  of  that 
tree  ;  knowing  that  they  had  but  to  eat 
of  it,  and  they  would  find  it  to  be  death. 
And  He  does  not  debar  us  from  the  en- 
joyment of  earthly  things  :  He  debars 
us  only  from  that  unbridled  and  unlaw- 
ful indulgence  which  tends  directly  to 
the  destruction  of  both  body  and  soul. 

But  it  is  with  us  as  it  was  with  Eve. 
As  a  sort  of  excuse  for  breakinsr  God's 
commandments,  we  represent  those 
commandments  as  forbidding  the  touch- 
ing, when  they  forbid  only  the  tasting. 
We  try  to  make  out  religion  as  all  gloom 
and  austerity  ;  and  ask,  whether  it  be 
not  something  too  much  to  expect,  that, 
with  such  a  nature  as  God  has  given  us, 


and  placed  in  such  a  world  as  that  as- 
signed for  our  dwelling,  the  nature  soli- 
citing the  very  objects  which  are  pre- 
sented by  the  world,  we  should  hold 
ourselves  altogether  aloof  from  present 
gratifications,  and  live  as  though  we  had 
no  senses,  no  appetites,  no  desires.  Ah, 
my  brethren,  the  younger  more  espe- 
cially, and  such  as  are  yet  looking  up- 
on religion  with  distaste  and  dislike,  be 
candid,  and  tell  us  whether  it  be  not  the 
apprehension  of  having  to  give  up  all 
that  is  pleasant  and  agreeable,  and  to 
settle  into  a  life  of  moroseness  and  me- 
lancholy, which  makes  you  turn  with 
aversion  from  the  proffers  and  promises 
of  the  Gospel  ] 

But  is  it  in  pure  ignorance  that  you 
thus  misrepresent  religion?  is  it  through 
an  actual  misunderstanding  as  to  what 
God  permits,  and  what  He  prohibits  ] 
Nay,  not  exactly  so  ;  we  must  probe 
you  a  little  deeper.  Ye  are  thoroughly 
aware,  even  though  you  may  strive  to 
hide  the  knowledge  from  yourselves  as 
well  as  from  others,  that  God  hath  said, 
"  Of  every  tree  of  the  garden  ye  may 
freely  eat.  "  He  hath  not,  ay,  and  ye 
know  that  He  hath  not,  filled  his  crea- 
tion with  attractions  on  purpose  to  keep 
his  rational  creatures  at  perpetual  strife 
with  themselves,  merely  to  exercise 
them  in  self-denial,  and  give  them  occa- 
sion of  doincj  violence  to  all  the  feelings 
of  their  nature.  On  the  contrary,  it  is 
the  decision  of  an  Apostle,  "  Every 
creature  of  God  is  trood,  and  nothing  to 
be  refused,  if  it  be  received  with  thanks- 
eivinor  "  It  is  the  abuse,  not  the  use 
of  the  creature  which  God  hath  forbid- 
den. His  prohibition  commences  only 
where  indulgence  virtually  defeats  its 
own  end,  the  ministering  to  happiness  :  it 
allows  all  the  participation  which  beings, 
conscious  of  immortality,  can  enjoy  with- 
out a  blush.  And  how,  knowing  this — 
for  ye  do  know  it ;  ye  know  that  religion 
is  not  meant  to  turn  the  earth  into  a 
desert;  ye  know  that  practically  it  does 
not  turn  the  earth  into  a  desert,  for  that 
religious  persons  may  have  their  share 
in  all  that  is  really  bright  and  sweet  in 
life,  yea,  and  relish  it  the  more  as  the 
gift  of  a  heavenly  Father,  and  enjoy  it 
the  more  because  enjoying  it  temperate- 
ly and  subordinately — how  is  it,  that, 
knowing  all  this,  ye  contrive  to  justify 
yourselves  in  continued  disregard  of  the 
demands  and  duties  of  religion  1     Ah, 


THE  MISREPilESENTATIONS  OF  EVE. 


we  will  not  pretend  to  follow  yon  into 
every  subterfuge,  nor  to  dissect  every 
falsehood.  But  we  look  at  the  case  of 
our  first  mother:  we  see  how,  when  she 
was  inclining  to  disobedience,  she 
wrought  herself  up  into  opposition  to 
the  commadnment  by  perversely  magni- 
fying its  strictness.  And  we  can  believe 
that  you  do  much  the  same.  You  take 
pains  to  hide  from  yourselves  the  real 
facts  .of  the  case.  You  leave  out  a 
word,  when  you  speak  of  God's  permis- 
sions ;  you  put  in  words,  when  you 
speak  of  his  prohibitions.  When  God 
hath  said,  "Ye  shall  not  eat  of  it,  "  and 
ye  are  secretly  persuaded  that  herein 
He  hath  only  consulted  for  your  good, 
ye  repeat,  as  your  version  of  the  com- 
mandment, till  perhaps  you  almost  be- 
lieve it  to  be  true,  "  Ye  shall  not  eat  of 
it,  neither  shall  ye  touch  it." 

But  there  was  a  yet  worse  symptom 
in  Eve,  one  still  more  indicative  of  the 
fatal  disease  which  was  making  way  in- 
to her  veins.  It  was  bad  enough,  whe- 
ther to  depreciate  God's  permission,  or 
to  exaggerate  his  prohibition ;  but  it 
was  worse  to  soften  away  his  threaten- 
ings.  This  showed  the  workings  of  un- 
belief; and  there  could,  indeed,  have 
been  but  a  step  between  our  common 
mother  and  ruin,  when  she  had  brought 
herself  to  look  doubtingly  on  the  word 
of  the  Lord.  And  this  symptom  is  even 
more  strongly  marked  than  those  which 
we  have  already  examined.  The  de- 
claration of  God  had  been,  "  Thou  shall 
not  eat  of  it ;  for  in  the  day  that  thou 
eatest  thereof,  thou  shalt  surely  die. " 
But  what  is  Eve's  version  of  this  strong 
and  unqualified  declaration  1  "  Ye  shall 
not  eat  of  it,  lest  ye  die.  "  '•  Lest  ye 
die,  "  this  is  what  she  substitutes  for 
"  in  the  day  that  thou  eatest  thereof, 
thou  shalt  surely  die."  "  Lest  ye  die,  " 
an  expression  which  implies  a  sort  of 
chance,  a  contingency,  a  bare  possibility, 
what  might  happen,  or  might  not  hap- 
pen, what  might  happen  soon,  or  might 
not  happen  for  years — it  is  thus  she  puts 
a  denunciation  as  express,  as  explicit, 
as  language  can  furnish,  "  in  the  day 
that  thou  eatest  thereof,  thou  shalt  sure- 
ly die."  Alas  now  for  Eve!  Harbor- 
ing a  thought  that  God  would  not  carry 
his  threatening  into  execution — and  this 
she  must  have  harbored,  ere  she  could 
have  softened  these  threatenings  into 
"  lest  ye  die  " — no  marvel  if  she  gave  a 


ready  ear  to  the  lie  of  the  serpent,  "  Ye 
shall  not  surely  die.  "  She  had  whis- 
pered his  lie  to  herself,  before  it  was 
uttered  by  Satan  :  the  devil  could  do 
little  then,  and  he  can  do  little  now,  ex- 
cept as  openings  arc  made  for  him  by 
those  on  whom  he  seeks  to  work.  It 
was  probably  the  incipient  unbelief, 
manifested  by  the  "  lest  ye  die  "  of  Eve, 
which  suggested,  as  the  best  mode  oi 
attack,  the  "ye  shall  not  surely  die  "  of 
Satan.  The  devil  may  well  hope  to  be 
believed,  so  soon  as  he  sees  symptoms 
of  God's  being  disbelieved. 

And  if  we  could  charge  upon  num- 
bers, in  the  present  day,  the  imitating 
Eve  in  the  disparaging  God's  permis- 
sions, and  the  exaggerating  his  prohibi- 
tions, can  we  have  any  difficulty  in  con- 
tinuing the  parallel,  now  that  the  thing 
done  is  the  making  light  of  his  threaten- 
ings 1  Why,  what  fills  hell  like  the  se- 
cretly cherished  thought,  that  perhaps, 
after  all,  there  may  be  no  hell  to  fill  1 
What  is  a  readier,  or  more  frequent, 
engine  for  the  destruction  of  the  soul, 
than  a  false  idea  of  the  compassion  of 
God  as  sure  to  interfere,  either  to  short- 
en the  duration,  or  to  mitigate  the  in- 
tenseness,  of  future  punishment,  if  not 
altogether  to  prevent  its  infliction  1  God 
hath  said,  "  The  soul  that  sinrieth,  it 
shall  die.  "  But  when  men  come  to 
gdve  their  version  of  so  stern  and  em- 
phatic  a  declaration,  they  put  it  virtual- 
ly into  some  such  shape  as  this,  "  The 
soul  should  not  sin,  lest  it  die.  "  Christ 
hath  said,  "  He  that  bclieveth,  and  is 
baptized,  shall  be  saved ;  but  he  that 
bclieveth  not  shall  be  damned;  "  men, 
however,  practically  throw  this  sweep- 
ing and  startling  affirmation  into  a  much 
smoother  formula,  "  Believe  upon  Christ, 
lest  ye  die." 

"  Lest  ye  die  " — is  this  then  all  ?  is 
there  any  doubt  1  is  it  a  contingency  ? 
is  it  a  may  be  1  "  Lest  ye  die,"  when 
God  hath  said,  "  Ye  shall  surely 
die."  "  Lest  ye  die,"  when  God  hath 
said,  "  The  wicked  shall  be  turned 
into  hell,  and  all  the  people  that  for- 
get God."  "  Lest  ye  die,"  when  God 
hath  said,  "  Be  not  deceived :  neither 
fornicators,  nor  idolators,  nor  adulter- 
ers, nor  covetous,  nor  drunkards,  nor 
revilers,  nor  extortioners,  shall  inherit 
the  kingdom  of  God."  Nay.  ye  may 
give  the  paragraph  a  smoother  turn, 
but  ye   cannot   give   the   punishment  a 


54 


THE   MISREPRESEXTATIOXS   OF  EVE. 


shorter  term.  Ye  may  soften  away  the 
expressions,  ye  can  neither  abbreviate 
nor  mitigate  the  vengeance.  "  If  we 
believe  not,"  saith  St.  Paul,  "  yet  He 
abideth  faithful,  He  cannot  deny  Him- 
self." It  may  make  punishment  all  the 
more  tremendous,  that  there  hath  been 
the  secret  indulgence  of  a  hope  that 
God  would  never  execute  his  threaten- 
ings  to  the  letter ;  but,  assuredly,  such 
a  hope,  as  being  itself  but  the  offspring 
of  unbelief,  can  never  produce  change, 
in  the  declared  purpose  of  the  moral 
Governor  of  the  universe. 

And  yet,  such  is  the  constancy  in  hu- 
man perverseness,  the  feeling  which 
wrought  in  Eve,  before  she  eat  the  fatal 

... 

fruit,  is  just  that  which  is  most  power- 
fully at  work  amongst  her  descendants. 
There  is  not  perhaps  one  of  you,  who, 
if  he  be  still  living  in  unrepented  sin,  is 
not  secretly  disposed  to  the  regarding 
God  as  too  gracious  to  visit  iniquity 
with  everlasting  destruction,  to  the  re- 
solving into  the  exasperations  of  the 
priesthood,  or,  at  all  events,  into  denun- 
ciations whose  ends  will  be  answered 
by  their  delivery  without  their  execu- 
tion, the  tremendous  announcements  of 
a  worm  that  dieth  not,  and  of  a  fire  that 
is  not  quenched. 

It  is  not,  that,  if  ye  were  pushed  into 
an  argument,  or  urged  to  a  confession, 
ye  would,  in  so  many  words,  assert  an 
expectation  of  such  a  difference  between 
punishment  as  threatened,  and  punish- 
ment as  put  in  force,  as  might  make  it 
comparatively  safe  for  you  to  set  at 
nought  God's  law.  We  do  not  suppose 
that  Eve  would  have  done  this  :  she 
would  not,  even  to  herself,  have  ac- 
knowledged so  much  as  this.  But  it  is, 
that  ye  have  a  smooth  way  of  putting 
the  threatenings  of  the  law;  you  per- 


haps think  that  there  is  a  great  deal  of 
metaphor  in  the  Bible,  much  which  was 
never  meant  to  be  literally  understood, 
much  which  was  only  for  local  or  tem- 
porary application  ;  and  so,  at  last, 
"  lest  ye  die,"  an  expression  which  just 
implies  some  measure  of  risk,  comes  to 
pass  with  you  (so  far  as  you  think  on 
such  matters  at  all)  as  a  very  fair  expo- 
sition of  "  Ye  shall  surely  die,  "  an  ex- 
pression denoting  the  most  absolute  cer- 
tainty. 

But,  now,  be  warned  by  the  instance 
of  Eve.  She  allowed  herself  to  give  a 
smooth  turn  to  the  threatening  of  God. 
She  invented,  and  never  was  invention 
so  pregnant  with  disaster  to  the  world, 
the  doubtful  suggestion,  "  Lest  ye  die," 
as  a  substitute  for  the  awful  affirmation, 
"  Ye  shall  surely  die."  But,  acting  on 
the  supposition  that  "  Lest  ye  die," 
might  fairly  pass  as  the  meaning  of  "  Ye 
shall  surely  die,"  she  "  brought  death 
into  the  world,  and   all  our  woe." 

In  her  case,  indeed,  tremendous 
though  the  consequences  were,  there 
was  a  remedy  :  our  first  parents  fell, 
but  were  arrested  by  a  Mediator  in  their 
fatal  descent.  But  in  your  case — if  the 
soul  be  staked  on  the  chance,  that  God 
threatens  more  than  He  will  execute, 
and  if  ye  find,  as  find  ye  must,  that  "ye 
shall  surely  die  "  meant  what  it  said — 
no  exaggeration,  no  metaphor — alas  ! 
there  will  then  be  no  remedy  for  you  : 
the  hour  will  be  passed,  the  day  will  be 
gone  :  though  now  a  Mediator  waits  to 
make  true  to  all  penitents  the  bold  false- 
hood of  Satan,  "Ye  shall  not  surely 
die,"  there  shall  be  no  deliverance  here- 
after for  such  as  have  been  presumptu- 
ous enough  to  sin,  in  the  hope,  or  with 
the  thought,  that  God  will  not  be  stern 
enough  to  strike. 


SEEKING,  AFTER  FINDING. 


55 


SERMON  VII. 


SEEKING  AFTER  FINDING. 


They  shall  ask  the  way  to  Zion,  with  their  faces  thitherward." — Jeremiah  1.  5. 


The  chapter  from  which  these  words 
are  taken  is  filled  with  predictions  of 
the  overthrow  of  Babylon,  and  of  the 
deliverance  of  the  Jews  from  their 
haughty  oppressors.  There  can  be  no 
doubt  that  these  predictions  had  at  least 
a  primary  reference  to  the  demolition  of 
the  Chaldean  Empire  by  Cyrus,  and  to 
the  consequent  emancipation  of  the  cap- 
tive citizens  of  Jerusalem.  But,  as  is 
generally  if  not  always  the  case  with 
prophecies  of  this  class,  there  would  ap- 
pear to  be  a  secondary  reference  to  the 
destruction  of  the  mystic  Babylon,  close- 
ly associated  as  it  will  be  with  the  re- 
storation of  the  scattered  tribes  of  Israel, 
and  with  the  triumphant  estate  of  the 
Christian  Church. 

It  would  seem  that  from  the  first  the 
enemies  of  God  and  his  people  which 
one  age  has  produced,  have  served  as 
types  of  those  who  will  arise  in  the  lat- 
ter days  of  the  world ;  and  that  the 
judgments  by  which  they  have  been 
overtaken,  have  been  so  constructed  as 
to  figure  the  final  vengeance  on  Anti- 
christ and  his  followers.  Hence  it  is 
that  so  many  prophecies  appear  to  re- 
quire as  well  as  to  admit  a  double  ful- 
filment ;  they  could  hardly  delineate  the 
type  and  not  delineate  also  the  antitype ; 
whilst  we  may  believe  that  the  Spirit, 
which  moved  the  holy  men  of  old,  de- 
signed that  what  it  inspired  should  serve 
for  the  instruction  of  remote  a^es  as 
well  as  of  near. 

That  the  predictions  in  the  chapter 
before  us  referred  to  what  is  yet  future, 
as  well  as  to  what  has  long  ago  passed, 
will  appear  from  a  careful  attention  to 
the  terms  in  which  they  are  couched. 
In  the  verse  immediately  preceding  our 


text,  you  find  this  statement :  "  In  those 
days,  and  in  that  time,  saith  the  Lord, 
the  children  of  Israel  shall  come,  they 
and  the  children  of  Judah  together,  go- 
ing and  weeping  :  they  shall  go,  and 
seek  the  Lord  their  God."  These 
words  describe  a  oreat  national  contri- 

O 

tion.  The  scattered  tribes  have  been 
brought  to  a  deep  sense  of  their  rebel- 
lion against  the  God  of  their  fathers,  and 
are  inclined  accordingly  to  return  to  his 
service.  But  it  would  hardly  appear 
that  there  was  any  such  general  repent- 
ance preparatory  to  the  return  of  the 
Jews  from  Babylon,  though  we  have 
decisive  testimony,  from  various  parts  of 
Scripture,  that  there  will  be  antecedent- 
ly to  the  final  restoration  of  the  Israel- 
ites to  Canaan.  And  besides  this,  you 
will  not  fail  to  observe  that  the  children 
of  Israel  are  here  combined  with  the 
children  of  Judah  ;  whereas  only  the  lat- 
ter were  captives  in  Babylon,  and  only 
the  latter  were  emancipated  by  Cyrus. 
Whenever,  as  in  tihs  instance,  prophecy 
speaks  of  any  gathering  together  of  the 
twelve  tribes,  of  which  the  kingdom  of 
Israel  had  ten,  that  of  Judah  only  two, 
we  seem  obliged  to  understand  it  as  re- 
lating to  the  future  ;  there  having  as 
yet  been  no  event  which  can  be  regard- 
ed as  the  predicted  restoration  of  the 
ten  tribes  whom  Shalmaneser  removed. 
On  this  and  other  accounts  which  it  is 
not  important  to  specify,  we  conclude 
that  in  its  secondary,  if  not  in  its  prima- 
ry, application,  our  text  is  connected  with 
that  august  event,  the  theme  of  so  many 
prophecies,  the  centre  of  so  many  hopes, 
the  reinstatement  in  Canaan  of  the  chil- 
dren of  Israel.  And  it  may  possibly 
indicate  from  what  various  and  remote 


SEEKING,   AFTER  FINDING. 


56 


districts  of  the  earth  shall  the  exiles  be 
gathered,  that  there  is  to  be  that  igno- 
rance of  the  road  to  Jerusalem  which  the 
words    before  as    express.      We  know 
that  the  whole  globe    is  strewed  with 
the  Jews,  so  that  von  can  scarcely  find 
the  country   where  this   people,  though 
distinct  from  every  other,  has  not  made 
itself  a  home.     But   the   dwelling- place 
of  the    ten    tribes   is   still    an    unsolved 
problem  :   neither    the   navigator  in  his 
voyagings  round  the  world,  nor  the  tra- 
veller in  his  searchings  over  continents, 
has  yet  lighted  on  the  mysterious  seclu- 
sion where  rest  the  descendants  of  those 
who,  for  their  sins,  were  cast  out  from 
Samaria.    It  may  well  then  be,  that  when, 
moved  by  one  impulse  from  above,  the 
thousands  of  the  chosen  seed,  whether  in 
the  east,  or  west,  or  north,  or  south,  shall 
resolve    on    seeking    the    land  of  their 
fathers,  it  will   be  almost   like  the  quest 
of  some   unknown   region,  so   indistinct 
will   be   the  memory,    and  so  darkened 
Che  tradition,  of  the  long-lost  inheritance. 
With  numbers  there  may  be  nothing  be- 
yond a  vague  knowledge  of  the  direc- 
tion in  which  Palestine  must  lie,  so  that 
they    will  be    able  to    turn   their  faces 
thitherward,    but    not  to  determine   by 
what,  road  to  proceed.     And  this  is  pre- 
cisely what  is  represented   in   our  text. 
The  children  of  Israel  and  the  children 
of  J  udah,  dissolved  in  tears  on  account 
of  their  now  felt  ingratitude  and  wick- 
edness, have  turned  themselves  towards 
Jerusalem,  but  arc  still  forced  to  inquire 
the  way.     One  seems  to  behold  a  band 
of  the  exiles  weeping  and  nevertheless 
exulting,    penetrated    with    sorrow    for 
sins,  and  yet  animated  with  the  persua- 
sion that  the  Lord   was   about  to  make 
bare  his  arm  and  gather  home  his  banish- 
ed ones.      They  press  along  the   desert, 
they  crowd  to  the  shore ;  and  of  every 
One  whom  they  meet  they  demand,  in  a 
voice  of  eagerness  and  anxiety,  Where, 
where  is  our   home,   the   beautiful   land 
which  God   gave   to   our  fathers,  Abra- 
ham, Isaac,  and  Jacob  '( 

But  you  will  readily  judge  that  it  can- 
not be  on  this,  the  literal  sense  or  ful- 
filment of  the  text,  that  we  design  to 
speak  at  any  length.  You  are  always 
prepared  for  our  regarding  the  Jews  as  a 
typigal  people,  and  finding  in  the  events 
of  their  history  emblems  of  what  occurs 
to  the  Christian  Church.  We  shall 
therefore  at  once  detach  the  text  from 


its  connexion  with  the  Jewrs,  whether  in 
their  past  deliverance  from  Babylon,  or 
their  yet  future  restoration  to  Canaan, 
and  consider  it  as  descriptive  of  what 
may  be  found  amongst  Christians,  who 
have  to  quit  a  moral  bondage,  and  find 
their  way  to  a  spiritual  Zion. 

The  singularity  of  the  passage,  when 
thus  interpreted  or  applied,  lies  in  the 
face   of  the   inquirer  being  towards  Zi- 
on, whilst  he  is  yet  forced  to  ask   what 
road  he  ought  to  take.      "  They  shall  ask 
the  wray  to  Zion,  with  their  laces  thither- 
ward."     They  are  in  the  right  road,   or 
at  least  are  advancing  in  the  right  direc- 
tion ;  but,  nevertheless,  whether  through 
ignorance,  or  through  fear  of  even   the 
possibility  of  mistake,  they  continually 
make  inquiries  as  to  the  path  to  be  fid- 
lowed.       We    think    that    this    circum- 
stance, if  considered  as  to  be  exempli- 
fied in  our  own  spiritual  history,  will  fur- 
nish  abundant  material   for    interesting 
and    profitable    discourse.     It  is    a  cir- 
cumstance which  indicates  such  honesty 
of   purpose  in  the  inquirer,  such   vigi- 
lance, such  circumspection,  such  anxiety 
to  be  right,   and  such    dread   of  being 
wrong,     as     should     distinguish     every 
Christian,  though  too  often  we  look  for 
them  in  vain.     And,  at  the  same  time, 
we  evidently  learn  that  persons  are  not 
always  fair  judges  of  their  spiritual  con- 
dition ;  they  may  be  asking  the  way  like 
those  who  are  in  ignorance  and  darkness, 
and  all  the  while  their  faces  may  be  to- 
wards Zion.      Let  it  be  our  endeavor  to 
compass  different  classes  within  our  pre- 
sent discourse  ;   considering  in  the  first 
place,    the  case  of  those  who,    though 
going  right,  suppose   themselves   going 
wrong;   and,  in   the   second   place,   that 
of  those  who   believe    themselves  right, 
but  yet  desire  further  assurance  ;   for  of 
both    classes    it    may    equally    be  said, 
"  They  ask  the  way  to  Zion,  with  their 
faces  thitherward." 

Now  it  is  the  object  of  such  parables 
as  that  of  the  tares  and  the  wheat,  or 
that  of  the  great  net  let  down  into  the 
sea,  and  which  gathered  of  all  kinds, 
bad  as  well  as  good,  to  teach  us  that. 
there  is  to  be  a  mixture  in  the  visible 
Church,  and  that  it  is  not  men's  busi- 
ness to  attempt  a  separation.  We  are 
all  too  much  disposed  to  exercise  a 
spirit  of  judgment,  to  pronounce  opin- 
ions on  the  condition  of  our  fellow-men, 
whether  the  living  or  the  dead,  just  as 


SEEKING,  AFTER  FINDING. 


57 


though  we  had  access  to  God's  book, 
and  could  infallibly  read  its  registered 
decisions:  But  there  is  every  tiling  in 
the  Bible  to  warn  us  against  this  spirit 
of  judgment,  and  to  urge  us,  on  the 
contrary,  to  a  spirit  of  charity  ;  our  ina- 
bility to  read  the  heart,  which  is  the  pre- 
rogative of  God  alone,  being  given  as  a 
sufficient  reason  why  we  should  refrain 
from  passing  verdicts  ;  and  our  duty  as 
members  of  the  same  mystic  body,  be- 
ing set  forth  as  that  of  hoping  all  things, 
bearing  one  another's  burdens,  rather 
than  scrutiuizino;  one  another's  faults. 

And  a  very  comforting  remembrance 
it  is,  that  we  are  not  to  stand  or  fall  by 
human  decision,  that  our  portion  for 
eternity  is  not  to  be  settled  by  what  men 
think  of  us  here ;  for  so  furious  is  the 
spirit  of  religious  party,  and  so  deter- 
mined are  numbers  on  making  their  own 
favorite  dogma  the  alone  passport  to 
heaven,  that  many,  of  the  most  lowly  fol- 
lowers of  Christ  would  be  given  over  to 
perdition,  and  many  of  the  most  arro- 
gant boasters  chartered  for  everlasting 
life,  were  the  verdicts  of  the  Christian 
world  to  be  final,  and  no  appeal  to  lie 
to  a  higher  tribunal.  We  always  think 
that  there  is  something  very  touching  in 
those  words  of  the  Redeemer,  "  My 
sheep  hear  my  voice,  and  I  know  them." 
It  is  as  much  as  to  say,  the  world  may 
not  know  them;  in  the  judgment  of 
men,  many  pass  for  my  sheep  who  are 
not,  and  many  who  are,  may  be  excluded 
from  my  flock;  but  I,  I  who  cannot  be 
deceived,  I  know  my  sheep,  and  will  in- 
fallibly distinguish  them  at  last  from  the 
goats. 

But  not  only  are  men  likely  to  deliver 
a  false  judgment  upon  others,  and  there- 
fore bound  to  confine  their  chief  scru- 
tiny to  themselves,  it  is  further  very 
possible  that  they  may  form  a  wrong 
opinion  of  their  own  spiritual  state,  not 
only,  as  you  all  know,  in  concluding 
themselves  safe  whilst  in  danger,  but,  as 
is  perhaps  less  suspected,  in  concluding 
themselves  in  danger  whilst  safe.  In 
his  more  private  ministrations  amongst 
his  people,  a  clergyman  will  not  unfre- 
quently  find  the  case  of  a  depressed  and 
disconsolate  individual,  who  obtains  none 
of  the  comforts,  though  he  is  all  alive  to 
the  duties,  of  religion.  It  gives  him  no 
surprise  that  there  should  be  such  cases  ; 
for  he  knows  that  they  are  expressly 
provided  for  in  Scripture, — as,   for  ex- 


ample, in  that  passage  of  the  prophet 
Isaiah,  "  Who  is  among  you  that  fear- 
eth  the  Lord,  that  obeyeth  the  voice  of 
his  servant,  that  walketh  in  darkness, 
and  hath  no  light  1  let  him  trust  in  the 
name  of  the  Lord,  and  stay  upon  his 
God."  Here  the  case  is  evidently  sup- 
posed of  religion  existing  in  its  genuine- 
ness, though  in  none  of  its  comforts  :  the 
man  fears  the  Lord,  and  obeys  the  voice 
of  his  servant;  but,  all  the  while,  is  sur- 
rounded by  impenetrable  darkness,  even 
darkness  which  may  be  felt.  And  the 
direction  to  such  a  man,  a  direction  to 
stay  himself  upon  his  God,  is  one  which 
clearly  assumes  the  reality  of  his  piety, 
and  as  clearly  asserts  that  he  is  not  in 
danger,  because  not  in  light. 

But  whilst  the  minister  is  quite  pre- 
pared for  these  cases,  and  quite  aware 
that  the  spiritual  gloom  is  no  index  of 
the  spiritual  state,  he  finds  them  singu- 
larly difficult  and  perplexing;  and  that, 
too,  because  they  are  commonly  the 
cases  of  parties  suffering  from  bodily 
disease,  disease  perhaps  of  the  nerves, 
and  whom  that  very  circumstance  inca- 
pacitates for  judging  with  accuracy  their 
spiritual  state.  If,  through  God's  bless- 
ing on  the  prescriptions  of  the  physician, 
a  more  wholesome  tone  be  given  to 
the  nervous  system,  brighter  views  will 
quickly  be  reached  of  the  condition  of 
the  soul :  on  the  other  hand,  if  the  sick- 
ness increase,  the  moral  darkness  will 
become  thicker  and  thicker :  and  whilst 
the  minister  is  thoroughly  assured  that 
all  these  alternations  are  but  proofs  bow 
the  body  can  act  upon  the  mind,  and 
therefore  noways  affect  the  spiritual  es- 
tate, the  patient  will  take  them  as  so 
many  evidences  of  advance  or  decline  in 


gem  me  religion. 


We  know  nothing  to  be  done,  in  these 
and  the  like  cases,  but  the  endeavoring 
to  shew  men  how  utterly  distinct  are  the 
reality  of  religion  and  its  comforts  ;  and 
how  independent  is  that  which  is  to  save 
them  on  the  frames  and  feelings  of  which 
they  may  be  conscious.  They  are  down- 
cast because  faith  seems  weak,  or  elated 
because  it  seems  strong ;  whereas  it  is 
not  faith  which  is  to  save  them,  but 
Christ ;  and  whilst  faith,-  whether  in  it- 
self or  its  evidences,  may  change  from 
day  to  day,  Christ  changes  not,  but  is 
"  the  same  yesterday,  to-day,  and  for- 
ever." And  we  always  think  it  safe  to 
tell  those  who  are  spiritually  depressed, 
8 


58 


SEEKING,  AFTER  FINDING. 


that  their  very  depression  is  no  mean 
argument  of*  their  safety  ;  for  so  unnatu- 
ral is  it  to  man  to  feel  anxious  for  his 
soul,  that,  wheresoever  there  is  the 
anxiety,  we  recognize  a  higher  agency, 
even  a  Divine,  as  having  wrought  to  ex- 
cite the  solicitude.  Tt  certainly  follows, 
that  the  man  who  is  depressed  as  to  his 
state  before  God,  must  be  anxious  as  to 
that  state  ;  and  we  know  not  how,  as  a 
corrupt  and  fallen  creature,  he  was  to 
have  become  thus  anxious,  had  not  God's 
Spirit  acted  on  his  conscience,  and  com- 
menced in  him  a  work  of  moral  renova- 
tion. So  that  there  ought  to  be  comfort 
even  in  the  very  wretchedness :  you 
would  not  have  been  thus  disquieted  had 
you  been  left  to  yourselves  ;  and  that 
you  have  not  been  left  to  yourselves 
should  prove  to  you  that  God  is  not  wil- 
ling that  you  should  perish,  nay,  that 
He  has  already  undertaken  the  brinorincr 
you  to  Himself. 

And  over  and  above  these  cases  of 
depression,  in  which  one  cause  or  an- 
other weaves  darkness  round  a  man,  so 
that,  whilst  his  face  is  towards  Zion,  he 
cannot  perceive  that  he  is  on  the  road 
to  the  heavenly  city,  we  nothing  doubt 
that  there  are  many  instances  of  parties, 
who  have  betmn  in  true  religion,  and 
nevertheless  think  that  the  first  step  has 
not  been  taken.  It  is  not  always,  nay, 
it  is  not,  we  believe,  often,  that  conver- 
sion is  suddenly  effected,  nor  through 
some  special  instrumentality  which  fixes, 
as  it  were,  the  date  of  the  change.  In 
the  majority  of  cases,  the  change,  we 
are  inclined  to  believe,  is  gradual,  im- 
perceptibly effected,  so  that,  although 
the  man  becomes  at  length  conscious  of 
a  great  moral  alteration,  he  cannot  tell 
you  when  it  commenced,  nor  by  what 
steps  it  went  on.  There  is  no  one  thing 
more  distinguishable  from  another,  than 
is  the  converted  state  from  the  uncon- 
verted; but  the  transition  from  the  one 
to  the  other  may  be  accomplished  by 
such  slow  degrees,  that  the  individual, 
who  is  its  subject,  shall  not  know  with 
precision  when  or  where  the  first  move- 
ment took  place. 

And  we  rejoice  in  the  assurance  that 
many,  who  would  not  venture  to  think 
themselves  on  the  way  to  Zion,  are  ac- 
tually walking  in  the  direction  of  that 
city.  They  who  have  a  sincere  wish  to 
be  enabled  to  forsake  sin,  and  who  are 
endeavoring  accordingly  to  break  away 


from  evil  habits  ;  they  who  tremble  at 
God's  word,  though  as  yet  they  have  not 
found  a  shelter  from  its  threatenings ; 
they  who  are  so  moved  by  a  sense  of 
danger  that  they  earnestly  inquire, 
"What  must  we  do  to  be  saved]" 
though  they  have  not  yet  heard  the  an- 
swer in  the  depths  of  the  heart — on  all 
these  the  minister  of  the  Gospel  looks 
with  great  hopefulness  :  they  may  not 
themselves  be  aware  of  their  having  ac- 
tually  entered  the  heavenward  path  ;  but 
he  considers  their  anxiety,  their  fear, 
their  solicitude,  as  so  many  evidences 
of  their  having  begun  in  religion,  and  he 
anticipates,  with  indescribable  pleasure, 
their  being  "  followers  of  them  who 
through  faith  and  patience  inherit  the 
promises."  Regarding  conversion  as  a 
gradual  work,  a  work  in  which  "  one 
soweth  and  another  reapeth,"  we  do  not 
look  on  those,  who  are  evidently  con- 
firmed believers,  as  the  only  travellers 
towards  the  celestial  city  :  we  rejoice 
in  thinking  that  there  are  numbers,  in 
whom  the  moral  change  is  not  vet  dis- 
tinctly  marked,  but  who  are  neverthe- 
less in  the  act  of  passing  the  strait  gate. 

Yea,  with  every  wish  to  avoid  giving 
encouragement  where  there  is  yet  need- 
ed warning',  we  do  feel  authorized  in 
taking  fears  for  the  soul,  and  desires  for 
its  safety,  as  evidences  of  a  man's  being 
in  the  pathway  of  life.  We  might  al- 
most say,  that,  in  religion,  anxiety  to  be- 
gin is  itself  a  becinuincr  '•  the  seeking 
the  road  is  the  being  in  the  road  :  and 
though  the  inquirers  themselves  may 
not  venture  to  think  that  they  have  yet 
done  more  than  .inquire,  oh,  we  can  re- 
gard them  as  having  already  virtually 
found  that  of  which  they  are  in  quest: 
they  may  only  consider  themselves  as 
asking  the  way  to  Zion  ;  but  we  can 
feel  that  they  are  of  those  who  ask  the 
way  to  Zion  "with  their  faces  thither- 
ward." 

But  let  us  pass  on  to  the  case  of  men, 
in  regard  of  whom  there  can  be  no  doubt 
that  they  have  made  a  beginning,  and 
let  us  see  what  our  text  may  indicate  as 
to  these  more  advanced  characters.  We 
may  justly  suppose  that  the  parties,  to 
whom  the  prophecy  originally  applied, 
had  set  out  on  the  journey  from  Babylon 
to  Zion  :  they  had  commenced  :  but, 
either  through  finding  themselves  in 
places  where  different  roads  met,  or 
through  desire  to  be  more  and  more  as- 


SEEKING,  AFTER  FINDING. 


59 


sured  of  being'  right,  they  still  ask  the 
way  to  the  land  of  their  fathers.  And 
we  hardly  know  where  to  begin,  in 
pointing  out  to  you  how  illustrative  this 
should  be  of  the  conduct  of  the  Chris- 
tian, as  he  journeys  towards  the  hea- 
venly inheritance.  There  are  many 
things  indicated  by  this  asking  the  way 
to  Ziun,  on  which  it  would  be  well  that 
your  attention  should  be  turned. 

Let  it  first  be  observed,  that  a  Chris- 
tian should  never  be  too  confident ;  that 
he  should  never  take  for  granted,  as  a 
point  on  which  there  could  not  be  doubt, 
that  he  is  indeed  "  a  new  creature,"  and 
on  the  high  road  to  the  kingdom.  "Ex- 
amine yourselves,  whether  ye  be  in  the 
faith,"  is  a  precept  which  cannot  be  in- 
appropriate at  any  stage  of  the  Christian 
life  ;  tor  where  a  mistake  is  so  possible, 
and  where  the  consequences  of  a  mis- 
take are  so  disastrous,  it  is  the  part  of 
common  prudence  to  be  frequently  con- 
sidering whether  or  not  we  have  been 
deceiving  ourselves,  having  a  name  to 
live,  whilst  yet  dead  in  God's  sight.  We 
have  no  wish,  indeed,  to  debar  you  from 
the  enjoyment  of  the  privileges  of  the 
Gospel  :  we  are  only  anxious  that  your 
title  to  these  privileges  should  be  clear ; 
and  this,  we  are  persuaded,  it  cannot 
be,  except  through  a  frequent  process 
of  close  self-examination.  For  it  is  not 
a  general  sense  of  your  election  unto 
life  which  should  satisfy  you  of  your 
safety.  This  may  be,  and  often  is,  no- 
thing more  than  a  suggestion  of  Satan 
to  blind  you  to  your  danger.  Do  you 
find  an  increasing  delight  in  secret  pray- 
er 'I  does  sin  seem  to  you  more  and  more 
odious  ?  are  you  more  and  more  pene- 
trated by  the  exceeding  great  love  of 
God  in  giving  his  Son  to  die  for  your 
sakes  ?  is  holiness  becoming  your  hap- 
piness, duty  your  privilege,  and  heaven 
the  very  home  of  your  affections  I  These, 
and  the  like,  questions  are  those  which 
you  should  be  frequently  proposing  to 
yourselves.  On  the  answer  to  these,  an 
answer  given  as  in  the  sight  of  a  heart- 
searching  God,  should  lestyour  answer 
to  the  most  momentous  of  all  questions, 
"Are  we  on  the  way  to  Zion  ]  " 

And  if  the  answer  to  this  last  question 
can  only  be  come  at  through  the  answer 
to  a  series  of  inquiries,  each  of  which 
may  be  said  to  need,  from  its  very  na- 
ture, the  being  daily  proposed,  it  neces- 
sarily follows,  that  you  ought  to  be  imi- 


tating the  children  of  Judah  and  Israel, 
asking  as  to  the  road  to  Zion,  however 
you  may  hope  that  your  faces  are  al- 
ready thitherward.  Can  this  be  the  way 
to  Zion  in  which  I  am  ?  Ask  the  dead, 
who  have  reached  that  heavenly  city  : 
with  one  voice  they  will  tell  you,  that, 
if  it  be  the  right  way,  it  is  a  way  of  self- 
denial,  leading  you  through  mortified 
lusts,  and  over  subjugated  affections ;  and 
then  judge  ye  whether  or  not  it  be  such 
a  way  in  which  you  are  found.  Ask  the 
living,  of  whom  you  have  best  cause  to 
believe  that  they  are  heirs  of  the  king- 
dom :  they  will  assure  you  that  the  way 
is  one  of  faith  and  obedience,  every  step 
of  which  is  an  advance  in  the  knowledge 
of  your  own  depraved  hearts,  and  in  the 
sense  of  the  worth  and  sufficiency  of 
Christ ;  and  then  judge  ye  whether  or 
not  this  can  be  the  wray  in  which  you  are 
walking.  Ask  the  Bible,  on  whose  pa- 
ges the  Holy  Spirit  hath  mapped  out 
the  path,  and  it  will  tell  you  that  the 
way  is  a  narrow  way,  which  will  not 
admit  of  your  encumbering  yourselves 
with  perishable  things,  but  which  can 
be  traversed  only  by  those  who  lay  aside 
every  weight ;  and  then  judge  ye  whe- 
ther ye  have  obtained  the  description  of 
a  path  which  ye  yourselves  are  pursu- 
ing. And  ask  ye,  yet  further,  of  God. 
This  seems  to  have  been  the  practice  of 
the  Psalmist ;  for  you  may  remember 
his  words,  "  Search  me,  O  God,  and 
know  my  heart ;  try  me,  and  know  my 
thoughts  ;  and  see  if  there  be  any  wick- 
ed way  in  me,  and  lead  me  in  the  way 
everlasting."  By  diligent  and  fervent 
prayer,  make  inquiry  of  God  as  to  the 
road  which  conducts  to  the  place  where 
He  dwells.  And  the  answer,  to  this  in- 
quiry, an  answer,  which,  if  there  be  sin- 
cerity in  the  inquirer,  shall  certainly  not 
be  withheld,  will  expose  to  you  the  de- 
ceitfulness  of  all  hope  of  reaching  Zion, 
which  is  not  founded  on  the  appropria- 
tion of  the  merits  of  the  Redeemer,  the 
reality  of  that  appropriation  being  proved 
by  the  produced  fruits  of  righteousness; 
and  then  determine  whether  such  an- 
swer ought  to  leave  you  assured  that 
you  are  not  self-deceived,  when  conclud- 
ing yourselves  in  the  heavenward  path. 
But  of  whomsoever  the  question  be 
asked,  we  wish  you  clearly  to  understand 
that  the  question  itself,  the  question  as 
to  the  way  to  Zion,  is  not  a  question  to 
be  put  by  none  but  beginners  in  religion, 


60 


8EEKING,  AFTER  FINDING. 


who  have  yet  to  learn  the  veiy  elements 
of  Christianity,  and  to  take  the  first  step 
in  separation  from  the  world.  It  is  a 
question  for  the  most  advanced  Chris- 
tian amongst  you,  if  not  because  he  may 
be  ignorant  of  the  way  and  therefore 
need  direction,  yet  because  he  requires 
to  be  reminded  of  the  way,  that  he  may 
compare  his  own  course  with  the  chart, 
and  see  whether  he  have  not  wandered, 
turning  aside  either  to  the  right  hand  or 
the  left.  For  if  it  may  be,  as  we  have 
said  that  it  is,  by  almost  imperceptible 
steps  that  a  man  passes  from  the  side 
of  the  world  to  that  of  God,  he  may  also 
decline,  by  almost  imperceptible  steps, 
towards  that  which  he  hath  left — the 
swerving  being  at  each  point  so  slight  ; 
as  scarce  to  be  observed,  although  a 
wide  angle  may  at  length  result  from 
successive  inconsiderable  flexions.  And 
if  indeed  it  be  possible,  that  a  man,  who 
has  entered  on  the  right  road,  may, 
through  want  of  constant  self-examina- 
tion, bend  from  that  road,  and  yet  hardly 
suspect  the  departure,  how  important 
that  Christians  should  imitate  the  Jews, 
who,  with  their  faces  towards  Zion,  were 
still  inquiring  the  road. 

It  is  not  doubt,  but  caution,  which  we 
would  teach  you  ;  not  the  being  always 
beginning,  but  the  being  always  diligent 
to    "  make    your    calling    and    election 
sure."     We  do  not  wish  you  to  be  al- 
ways uncertain  as  to  whether  or  not  your 
faces  are  turned  towards  Zion  ;   but  we 
wish  you  to  understand  that  their  being 
so  turned  is  a  reason   in  favor  of,   not  a 
reason  against,  your  frequently  inquiring 
the  heavenly  path.     It   is  not  sufficient 
that  they   be  turned  ;  the   great  matter 
is,  that  they  be  kept  turned;  and  whilst 
such  is  your  nature,  that,   without   con- 
stant   vigilance,   the    direction    may   be 
gradually  changed,   and   yet   appear  to 
you   the   same — even   as  the  eyes  of  a 
well-drawn   portrait  follow   you  as  you 
move,  and   so  might  persuade  you  that 
you  had  not  moved  at  all — it  is  evidently 
bound  on  you,  by  your  regard  for  your 
safety,  that  you  be  always  ascertaining 
the  landmarks,  in   place  of  judging   by 
your  apparent  position.      Is   my  life  the 
life  of  a  believer  in  Christ]  is  faith  pro- 
ducing piety,  humility,  charity,  patience  ? 
These  are  the  very  milestones,  the  pil- 
lars,   the   crosses,    on    the    road.       If  I 
search  not  for  these,  I  must  remain  with- 
out sufficient  evidence  of  my   being  on 


the  road  ;  and,  therefore,  is  an  inquiry 
as  to  the  way,  in  order  to  the  determin- 
ing whether  it  be  the  way  in  which  I 
walk,  the  only  inquiry  by  which,  at  any 
stage,  I  can  ascertain  my  safety.  In 
short,  1  am  not  to  conclude  that  I  must 
be  in  the  right  way,  because  my  face, 
as  I  think,  is  Zionwards  :  I  am  to  con- 
clude that  my  face  is  Zionwards,  by  ex- 
amining my  path,  comparing  it  with 
that  which  Scripture  delineates  as  con- 
ducting to  heaven,  and  proving  that  the 
two  are  one  and  the  same. 

It  may  not  have  been  from  actual  ig- 
norance, that  they,  who  had  been  de- 
livered from  Babylon,  asked,  with  so 
much  urgency,  the  road  to  Jerusalem. 
They  were  on  the  road,  and,  though 
half  blinded  with  the  tears  of  contrition, 
may  have  felt  that  they  could  scarcely 
go  wrong.  But  they  would  make  as- 
surance doubly  sure.  It  was  a  pleasure 
to  them  to  ask  the  name  of  every  valley 
which  they  crossed,  and  of  every  hill 
which  they  ascended,  and  to  receive  a 
reply  which  showed  them  that  their 
course  was  indeed  towards  Zion.  And 
occasionally  they  stood  where  different 
roads  met — one  perhaps  apparently 
smooth,  and  leading  through  rich  smi- 
lin  j  scenes  ;  and  the  other  rugged,  and 
going  off  towards  a  dreary  waste — 
what  shall  they  do  but  pause  till  they 
can  clearly  determine  which  road  leads 
to  Zion?  not  wishing  to  follow  the  at- 
tractive path,  if  it  do  not ;  eager  to  at- 
tempt the  repulsive,  if  it  do. 

And  in  all  this,  we  again  and  asrain 
tell  you,  they  were  examples  to  the 
Christian  in  his  journey  to  the  spiritual 
Canaan.  He  can  never  be  too  sure  that 
he  is  right.  He  may  have  no  reason  to 
suspect  that  he  is  wrong;  but  he  is 
wrong,  if,  on  that  account  alone,  he  con- 
clude himself  right.  Let  him  be  always 
questioning,  questioning  himself,  ques- 
tioning others,  inquiring  of  the  Bible, 
inquiring  of  God.  What  is  this  moun- 
tain before  me  1  is  it  on  the  map  1  what 
is  this  valley  which  I  have  to  cross,  this 
stream  which  I  have  to  ford  1  are  they 
what  1  was  to  meet  with,  or  do  thev  show 
that  I  have  wandered  '!  And  here  the 
road  divides — which  turn  am  I  to  take  1 
what  is  to  decide  me  in  this  perplexity  1 
Let.  me  be  firm  on  one  point — that  it  is 
the  direction  of  the  road,  not  its  quality, 
by  which  I  will  be  determined.  The 
road  which  leads  to  heaven,  that  is  my 


SEEKING,   AFTER  FINDING. 


61 


roa  1,  be  it,  or  be  it  not,  strewed  with 
the  rocks,  and  swept  by  the  torrents. 
Other  paths  may  look  more  inviting  : 
but  I  have  nothing  to  do  except  with 
their  termination  :  if  they  conduct  not 
to  Zion,  I  would  not  venture  to  follow 
them  even  a  solitary  step,  though  they 
might  lead  me  to  riches,  or  honors,  or^plea- 
sures.  This  it  is  to  imitate  the  emancipa- 
ted Jews.  Weep  with  them  if  you  will  ; 
for  the  sins  of  everyday  furnish  but  too 
much  matter  for  godly  sorrow.  Turn 
your  faces,  with  them,  towards  Zion  : 
for  assuredly  this  is  not  your  rest,  and 
ye  aVe  but  strangers  and  pilgrims  be- 
low. But  be  always  on  the  watch,  lest 
ye  miss  the  narrow  path  ;  lest,  through 
ignorance,  you  take  the  road  which  looks 
plainest,  or,  through  indolence,  that 
which  seems  smoothest,  or,  through  self- 
indulgence,  that  which  promises  most  of 
present  advantage ;  and  thus,  let  this 
description  be  literally  applicable  to 
vourselves,  "  They  ask  the  way  to  Zion, 
with  their  faces  thitherward." 

But  there  is  yet.  more  to  be  gathered 
from  this  description,  when  considered 
as  that  of  a  believer  in  Christ.  We 
have  hitherto  merely  affirmed  that,  in 
order  to  guard  against  mistake,  where 
mistake  would  be  fatal,  it  must  become 
the  Christian  to  be  always  inquiring  the 
way  to  Zion,  like  one  who  knows  that 
he  may  be  deceived,  even  when  to  all 
appearance  he  has  long  followed  the 
right  path.  But  we  will  now  suppose 
him  certified  as  to  the  direction  in  which 
he  is  proceeding,  certified  that  his  face 
is  towards  Zion,  and  nevertheless  busy- 
ing himself  with  inquiries  as  to  the 
way.  And  what  would  this  mark  1 
What  should  we  have  to  learn  from  the 
representation  of  a  Christian  as  inquir- 
ing the  way  to  Zion,  though  assured 
that  he  had  been  long  proceeding  in 
that  way  1 

My  brethren,  Christianity  is  that  in 
which  no  man  can  be  too  advanced  to 
study  the  alphabet.  It  is  that  to  whose 
very  elements  the  greatest  proficient 
should  often  recur,  not  indeed  as  though 
he  were  to  be  always  a  beginner  : 
but  because  what  he  begins  with  he 
cannot  exhaust;  and  because  what  he 
gathers  as  he  proceeds,  only  fits  him  the 
more  for  understanding  and  appreciating 
that  with  which  he  commenced.  The 
simple  and  fundamental  doctrines  of 
our  holy  religion, — the  doctrines  of  hu- 


man corruption,  of  the  renewing  power 
of  God's  Spirit,  of  the  incarnation  of 
the  Eternal  Word,  and  of  the  atone- 
ment effected  by  a  Mediator, — these, 
which  may  be  said  to  shew  the  way  to 
Zion,  present  continually  new  material 
for  the  contemplation  and  instruction  of 
the  Christian.  There  is  a  sense  in  which 
there  is  no  getting  beyond  the  very  al- 
phabet of  Christianity  ;  that  alphabet 
will  always  be  beyond  us  ;  any  one  of 
its  letters  being  as  a  mighty  hieroglyphic 
which  the  prayerful  student  may  par- 
tially decipher,  but  the  most  accom- 
plished scholar  never  thoroughly  ex- 
pound. 

And  there  cannot  be  a  worse  symp- 
tom, whether  in  an  individual  or  in  a 
consrrefration,  than  that  of  distaste  for 
the  elementary  truths  and  facts  of  Chris- 
tianity. We  regard  with  great  anxiety 
those  professing  Christians,  whose  ap- 
petites must  be  stimulated  by  novelties 
and  varieties  in  religion,  and  to  whom  it 
is  not  always  a  feast,  always  like  "  good 
news  from  a  far  country,"  to  hear  of  the 
exceeding  love  of  God  in  giving  his 
dear  Son  as  a  propitiation  for  sin.  We 
are  not  indeed  unmindful  of  what  St. 
Paul  says  to  the  Hebrews,  whom  he 
exhorts,  that,  "  leaving  the  principles  of 
the  doctrine  of  Christ,"  they  should  go 
on  to  perfection  ;  and  we  fully  believe 
that  a  Christian  may  err  through  con- 
fining himself  to  the  elements,  in  place 
of  striving  to  comprehend  the  whole 
range  of  truth.  Whatsoever  God  has 
been  pleased  to  reveal,  should  be  made 
the  subject  of  study;  and  we  will  not 
desecrate  the  name  of  humility  by  giving 
it  to  that  temper  which  would  seal  up 
half  the  Bible,  as  too  obscure  to  be  read 
with  advantage,  or  too  perplexed  for  the 
generality  of  Christians.  It  is  evident- 
ly, however,  only  the  resting  in  "  the 
principles  of  the  doctrine  of  Christ," 
which  is  condemned  by  St.  Paul :  he 
would  have  us  go  on  to  perfection  ;  but 
but  not  so  as  to  forget  the  principles  : — 
who  ever  soared  higher  than  this  Apos- 
tle 1  and  yet  who  ever  lingered  more 
fondly  on  the  very  threshold  of  the  sys- 
tem, beholding  the  cross  with  the  earn- 
estness and  affection  of  one  who  felt 
it  to  be  the  centre  of  life  to  a  fallen  and 
helpless  world  '(  We  are  to  leave  the 
principles,  so  as  to  be  on  the  advance  in 
the  search  after  truth  :  but  we  are  never 
so  to  leave  them  as  though  we  had  done 


62 


SEEKING,  AFTER  FINDING. 


with  them,  and  had  no  further  need  to 
recur  to  their  study.  Indeed,  in  this 
sense,  it  is  irapossble  to  leave  the  prin- 
ciples ;  for  the  heights  and  depths  of 
Christian  doctrine  are  but  the  first  ele- 
ments expanded  :  the  simple  truths  are 
the  germs  of  the  mysterious  :  and  it  is 
the  little  cloud  which  at  length  spreads, 
like  that  seen  by  the  Prophet's  servant, 
into  an  impenetrable  vast,  though  only 
that  it  may  refresh  and  fertilize  the  earth. 

We  may  therefore  justly  again  speak 
to  you  of  the  badness  of  the  symptom, 
when  a  Christian  grows  weary  of  the 
first  truths  of  Christianity,  nay,  when 
he  is  not  frequent  in  dwelling  on  those 
truths,  as  furnishing  instruction  which 
he  cannot  outstrip,  and  consolation  which 
he  cannot  exhaust.  Tell  me  not  of  a 
man  who  understands  all  mysteries,  and 
who  is  so  engaged  with  abstruse  and  lofti- 
er doctrines,  that  he  may  leave  to  young 
converts  the  introductory  facts  which  he 
has  long  ago  examined,  and  with  which, 
as  placed  at  the  entrance  to  the  heaven- 
ward path,  he  can  have  no  concern  when 
some  progress  has  been  made.  We 
dare  affirm  of  the  path,  that  it  is  not  so 
direct  that  what  we  leave  remains  actu- 
ally behind  us,  but  rather  so  winding 
that  what  we  leave  seems  frequently  be- 
fore us.  In  advancing,  we  apparently 
return  to  the  same  point  :  he  who  has 
taken  a  lofty  flight,  if  it  have  indeed 
been  through  a  region  of  Christian 
truth,  will  commonly  find  himself,  at  its 
close,  at  the  foot  of  the  cross.  At  least, 
if  he  return  from  the  flight,  and  feel, 
on  looking  at  the  cross,  as  though  it 
were  a  dull  and  common-place  object,  in 
comparison  of  what  he  had  beheld,  we 
may  be  sure  that  he  has  been  expatia- 
ting in  some  region  of  cold  and  barren 
speculation,  where  there  may  be  religion 
for  the  intellect,  but  none  for  the  heart. 

We  give  it,  therefore,  as  no  bad  cri- 
terion for  those  who  have  long  made 
profession  of  godliness, — have  we  de- 
light in  the  simple  truths  of  the  Gospel, 
or  do  we  find  no  pleasure  but  in  an  ab- 
struse and  argumentative  theology, 
where  the  understanding  is  tasked,  or 
the  reason  appealed  to,  the  imagina- 
tion dazzled  ]  What  preaching  con- 
tents us?  Must  we  have  the  logical 
speaker,  who  leads  us  on,  by  a  series 
of  well-contrived  steps,  to  some  un- 
expected conclusion  ]  or  the  brilliant, 
who,  by  his  vivid  delineations,  can  charm 


us  into  the  belief  of  truths  which  we 
had  hitherto  overlooked  ]  or  is  it  suffi- 
cient to  engage  our  attention  and  make 
us  all  alive  to  the  worth  of  the  ordi- 
nance of  preaching,  that  the  minister 
speaks,  simply  and  warmly,  on  the  ele- 
ments of  Christianity,  on  truths  with 
which  we  have  long  been  familiar,  which 
have  been  taught  us  from  infancv,  and 
which  are  little  more  than  the  inscrip- 
tions which  point  the  manslayer  to  the 
city  of  refuge  1  It  will  be  thus  with 
those  who  are  pressing  "  towards  the 
mark  for  the  pi'ize  of  their  high  calling 
in  Christ."  The  giant  in  Christ,  if  we 
may  vary  the  simile,  is  so  truly  the  babe 
in  Christ,  as  always  to  be  leaning  upon 
Him  for  support ;  and  the  sounds  which 
were  sweet  to  him  in  the  first  days  of 
spiritual  life,  will  be  melodious  ever 
after ;  not  only  because  music  remem- 
bered as  heard  in  childhood  always  steals 
thrillingly  on  the  ear,  as  though  it  were 
a  voice  from  the  tomb,  but  because  the 
well-known  strain  breathes  to  him  of 
all  he  holds  precious,  and  falls  liquidly 
as  a  voice  from  the  firmament,  inspir- 
ing the  hope  which  is  "  full  of  immor- 
tality." 

By  this,  then,  amongst  other  tests,  let 
those  who  think  themselves  advanced  in 
Christianity  try  their  spiritual  condition. 
What  ear  have  they  for  simple  truths 
simply  delivered  ?  In  their  private 
studies,  what  pleasure  have  they  in 
meditating  the  first  principles  of  the 
Gospel  %  do  they  find  those  first  princi- 
ples inexhausted,  inexhaustible  %  or  is 
it  always  to  deeper  doctrines  that  they 
turn,  as  though  it  were  only  when  quite 
out  of  their  depth,  that  they  gain  a  rest- 
ing-place for  the  soul  ]  I  admire,  I 
greatly  admire,  the  picture  of  a  Chris- 
tian, as  furnished  by  the  prophetic 
sketch  of  the  Jews  in  our  text !  He  is 
a  man  who  is  never  weary  of  hearing 
of  the  wav  to  Zion,  though  his  face  is 
towards  the  heavenly  city,  and  he  may 
perhaps  already  behold  its  battlements 
on  the  horizon.  I  know  not  how  far 
the  exiles  had  advanced  when  they 
might  first  be  described  by  the  predic- 
tion before  us.  But  there  is  nothing  to 
limit  the  prediction  to  one  point  rather 
than  to  another  of  the  journey.  For 
anything  we  know,  those  blue  hills  in 
the  distance  may  be  the  mountains  which 
are  "  round  about  Jerusalem,"  and  the 
I  waters   which   they  are   crossing   may 


SEEKING,   AFTER  FINDING 


63 


have  flowed  by  its  ruined  walls ;  and 
yet,  as  though  they  had  but  just  quit- 
ted Babylon,  the  wanderers  are  asking 
the  way,  loving  to  be  told  what  they 
know,  and  delighting  to  hear,  though 
not  needing  to  be  taught. 

It  is  thus  with  the  believer.  What 
was  glad  news  to  him  at  the  beginning, 
is  glad  news  to  him  to  the  end  :  the  pre- 
scribed way  to  safety,  through  repent- 
ance and  faith,  cannot  be  exhibited  with- 
out fixing  his  attention,  exciting  his 
gratitude,  and  animating  his  hope.  Let 
him  be  even  on  the  border  of  the  land, 
let  him  be  even  on  the  brink  of  the  Jor- 
dan, and  nothing  will  accord  belter  with 
his  feelings,  nothing  will  more  minister 
to  his  peace,  than  discourse,  not  on  the 
New  Jerusalem  itself,  but  on  the  path 
by  which  it  must  be  reached.  The  min- 
ister stands  by  a  dying  Christian,  that, 
in  the  hour  of  dissolution,  he  may  whis- 
per words  of  comfort.  And  what  hath 
he  spoken  of,  that  there  is  so  bright  a 
smile  on  the  cheek  of  the  sufferer,  that 
the  sunken  eye  is  suddenly  lit  up  as 
though  with  fire  from  above  1  Surely, 
say  the  bystanders,  he  hath  spoken  of 
the  diadem,  and  the  white  robe,  and  the 
golden  hai-p,  of  the  palaces  of  immortal- 
ity, and  of  the  raptures  of  those  who  have 
cast  off  the  burden  of  the  flesh.  Ah,  no  ! 
— he  hath  spoken  as  he  would  have 
done  to  the  young  inquirer  in  religion. 
He  hath  spoken  of  the  Divine  love  in 
finding  a  ransom  :  he  hath  spoken  of 
the  blood  of  Christ  as  cleansing  from 
all  sin  :  he  hath  spoken  of  the  interces- 
sion of  Christ  as  securing  all  blessing. 
And  if  surprise  be  expressed  that  such 
elementary  discourse  should  be  cheer- 
ing to  a  man  as  he  almost  entered  hea- 
ven, the  minister  will  have  only  to  re- 
ply, that  the  true  believer  is  one,  who, 
to  the  very  end,  resembles  the  Jews  as 
they  journeyed  from  Babylon  to  Canaan, 
and  who  asked  "  the  way  to  Zion,  with 
their  faces  thitherward." 

But  there  is  yet  one  more  particular 
on  which  we  wish  to  insist ;  not  that  we 
think  that  we  shall  then  have  exhausted 
the  text ;  but  that  what  we  have  still  to 
advance  is  of  so  practical  a  character, 
that  we  could  not  be  justified  in  its 
omission.  We  would  direct  your  atten- 
tion to  what  we  may  call  the  honesty  of 
purpose  displayed  by  the  Jews,  and 
hold  it  up  for  imitation  to  all  who  pro- 
fess to  be  seeking  the  kingdom  of  God. 


The  Jew  had  his  face  turned  towards 
Zion,  whilst  he  was  inquiring  the  road : 
if  he  did  not  know  the  precise  path,  he 
knew  the  direction  in  which  the  city  lay  ; 
and  he  was  looking  in  the  dii'ection, 
when  he  asked  what  way  he  should 
take.  He  might  have  been  looking  in 
another  direction  :  his  eye  might  have 
been  to  the  city  which  he  had  to  quit, 
and  not  to  that  to  which  he  had  to  eo  : 
and  then  there  would  have  been  good 
reason  to  suspect  that  he  preferred  the 
remaining  in  Babylon,  though  he  pro- 
fessed a  desire  to  remove  to  Jerusalem. 
But  as  his  face  was  already  Zionwards, 
he  gave  evidence  of  being  in  earnest : 
he  had  done  as  much  as  he  could  do 
with  his  amount  of  infonnation,  and 
there  could  be  no  doubt  that  he  was 
sincere  in  his  inquiry  for  more. 

We  have  a  right  to  require  and  ex- 
pect a  similar  conduct  from  all  those  who 
ask  of  us  the  way  to  heaven.  There  is 
such  a  thing  as  asking  the  way  to  Zion 
with  the  face  towards  Babylon  ;  and  if 
there  be  this  dissimulation — for  no  mild- 
er word  will  express  the  precise  truth — 
in  vain  will  the  preacher  point  out  the 
road,  and  urge  the  traveller  to  decision 
and  dispatch.  We  fear  it  to  be  true  of 
numbers  amongst  you,  that  they  ask  the 
way  to  heaven,  but  keep  looking  towards 
the  world.  What  interpretation  are 
we  to  put  upon  your  appearance  Sab- 
bath after  Sabbath  in  the  sanctuary  of 
God,  if  not  that  it  professes  a  wish  for 
instruction,  a  desire  to  be  informed  how, 
as  immortal  creatures,  you  may  escape 
lasting  misery,  and  secure  lasting  hap- 
piness ]  We  cannot,  in  the  judg- 
ment of  charity,  put  a  less  favorable 
construction  on  your  coming  up  to 
God's  house  ;  we  cannot  regard  it  as 
a  mere  compliance  with  custom,  or 
as  a  mode  of  passing  away  time,  which 
might  otherwise  hang  heavy  on  your 
hands.  Every  man  who  frequents  the 
public  ordinances  of  the  Church  is 
certainly  to  be  considered  as  thereby, 
if  by  nothing  else,  asking  of  those 
whom  God  hath  set  as  guides  to  the 
wandering,  by  what  way  he  may  reach 
the  kingdom  of  heaven. 

But  it  is  in  vain  that  the  answer  is 
continually  given,  and  that,  on  successive 
opportunities,  the  minister  of  Christ 
holds  forth  the  chart,  and  delineates  the 
path.  And  the  great  reason  of  this  is, 
that  there  is  no  honesty  of  purpose  in  the 


64 


SEEKING,   AFTER  FINDING. 


inquirer,  no  real  intention  of  acting  on 
the  information  which  he  professes  to 
want.  His  face  is  towards  the  world  at 
the  very  moment  that,  with  all  the  show 
of  a  traveller  towards  Zion,  he  is  making 
inquiries  as  to  a  path  and  conveyance. 
And  we  would  have  you  distinctly  un- 
derstand, that  there  is  a  certain  part 
which  the  unconverted  man  has  to  per- 
form if  he  hope  for  conversion  ;  and  that 
whilst  this  is  undone,  he  has  no  right  to 
look  for  the  visitations  of  brace.  It  may 
not  be  in  his  power  to  find  for  himself 
the  pathway  of  life;  still  less  to  take  a 
step  on  that  pathway  whef?  found.  But 
he  may  ascertain  the  direction  in  which 
Zion  lies,  and  he  may  be  looking  in  that 
direction,  if  not  advancing.  It  is  quite 
idle  to  say  that  he  knows  not  the  direc- 
tion :  he  knows  it  to  be  the  exact  oppo- 
site to  that  in  which  he  naturally  looks  ; 
to  turn  his  eyes  from  the  world  is,  as 
he  must  be  thoroughly  aware,  to  turn 
them  towards  them. 

And  we  expect  this  from  every  one 
of  you  who,  in  any  shape,  puts  the  in- 
quiry, "  What  must  I  do  to  be  saved  ]  " 
We  expect  him  to  be  an  imitator  of  the 
Jews  who,  if  they  asked  the  way  to 
Zion,  asked  it  with  "  their  faces  thither- 
ward." What  mean  you  by  coming  to 
God's  house,  not  merely  with  your  af- 
fections set  on  earthly  things,  but  with- 
out an  effort  to  disengage  them'?  with 
no  intention  of  entering  on  a  course  of 
labor  and  self-denial,  if  such  should  be 
prescribed  ]  but  rather  with  the  secret 
determination  of  persevering  a  while 
longer  in  courses  which  you  know  to  be 
wrong  1  What  mean  you  by  this  hy- 
pocrisy, this  double  dealing  ?  What 
mean  you  by  this  imitation  of  Lot's 
wife,  who,  if  she  had  her  foot  towards 
Zoar,  had  her  face  towards  Sodom  ] 
Show  that  you  are  in  earnest  by  the  di- 
rection in  which  you  look  ;  otherwise  it 
is  in  vain  to  ask  guidance  as  to  the  way 
in  which  to  walk.  The  man  who  is  in 
earnest  will  set  himself  at  once  to  the 
turning  his  back  on  what  conscience 
tells  him  to  be  wrong,  or  the  Bible  de- 
clares to  be  offensive  to  God.  He  will 
make  it  his  business  to  forsake  pursuits 
or  associates,  however  agreeable,  which 
draw  him  to  the  visible  world,  and  to 
enter  upon  duties  whose  distinct  ten- 
dency is  towards  the  invisible.  And 
this,  at  the  least,  is  the  setting  his  face 
heavenwards,  a  preliminary,  as  we  are 


bold  to  affirm,  to  his  being  enabled   to 
direct  his  course  heavenwards. 

For  it  is  an  indisputable  rule  in  the 
dealings  of  God,  to  give  more  grace  in 
proportion  as  that  already  given  is  im- 
proved. He  hath  given  strength  to  turn 
the  eye — turn  it,  or  never  look  for 
strength  to  move  the  foot.  And  if  you 
would  know  whether  it  be  an  indifferent 
thing,  that  you  continue  asking  the  way 
to  heaven  with  vour  face  towards  the 
world,  you  have  only  to  refer  to  the 
writings  of  Ezekiel,  where  God  Him- 
self expresses  his  sense  of  the  duplicity. 
"  Every  one  of  the  house  of  Israel, 
which  separateth  himself  from  me,  and 
setteth  up  his  idols  in  his  heart,  and  put- 
teth  the  stumbling-block  of  his  iniquity 
before  his  face,  and  cometh  to  a  prophet 
to  inquire  of  him  concerning  me,  I  the 
Lord  will  answer  him  by  myself,  and  I 
will  set  my  face  against  that  man,  and 
will  make  him  a  sign  and  a  proverb." 
The  case  here  supposed  is  precisely 
that  which  we  are  forced  to  regard  as 
frequent  amongst  ourselves,  the  case  of 
a  man  who,  with  his  heart  full  of  the 
idols  of  the  world,  with  the  stumbling- 
block  of  his  iniquity  put  "  before  his 
face," — so  far  is  he  from  any  effort  to 
put  it  behind  his  back, — comes  to  in- 
quire of  the  prophet  concerning  God,  as 
though  he  wished  to  know  how  hisfevor 
might  be  gained.  And  God  takes  upon 
Himself  the  giving  him  his  answer,  an 
answer  expressive  of  singular  indigna- 
tion, and  more  than  common  vengeance. 
That  man  is  to  be  made  "  a  sign  and  a 
proverb,"  a  sign,  as  was  the  wife  of 
Lot,  to  whom  we  have  already  referred, 
who  was  turned  into  a  pillar  of  salt,  that 
the  wavering  and  hypocritical  of  all 
after-ages  might  be  admonished  and 
warned. 

We  can,  therefore,  but  urge  on  you 
the  taking  heed  how  you  come  to  in- 
quire of  the  prophet,  with  no  sincere 
purpose  of  acting  on  his  directions.  See 
to  it  that  ye,  turn  your  face  towards 
heaven  ;  for  this  is  in  the  power  of  all 
of  you,  through  those  workings  of  God's 
Spirit,  of  which  every  breast  is  the 
scene.  Ye  cannot  turn  the  heart,  but 
ye  can  turn  the  face.  Ye  can  turn 
the  back  to  the  world,  which  is  to  turn 
the  face  towards  heaven  ;  and  it  is  God's 
ordinary  course  to  give  the  new  heart 
to  those  who  prove  that  they  desire  it, 
by  looking  away  from  all  which  the  old 


THE  BIRD  S  NEST. 


65 


heart  is  prone  to  love  and  prefer.  Then 
inquire  the  way  to  heaven  ;  then,  when 
your  sincerity  is  proved,  and  you  have 
shown,  by  your  striving  to  obey  God  up 
to  the  measure  of  your  knowledge  and 
ability,  that  you  would  improve  a  great- 
er   measure    if    mercifully    vouchsafed. 


Thus  will  you  be  doing  as  did  the  chil- 
dren of  Judah  :  and  you  shall  find  that, 
directed  as  they  were  into  the  right, 
though  perhaps  a  rough  path,  you  shall 
reach  at  length  the  land  which  God  pro- 
mised to  your  fathers,  and  sit  down  de- 
lightedly in  the  long-lost  inheritance. 


SERMON  VIII. 


THE  BIRD'S  NEST. 


u  If  a  bird's  nest  chance  to  be  before  thee  in  the  way  in  any  tree,  or  on  the  ground,  whether  they  be  young  ones,  or 
eggs,  and  the  dam  sitting  upon  the  young,  or  upon  the  eggs,  thou  shalt  not  take  the  dam  with  the  young:  but  thoii 
shalt  in  any  wise  let  the  dam  go,  and  take  the  young  to  thee  ;  that  it  may  be  well  with  thee,  and  that  thou  niayest 
prolong  thy  days." — Deutebonomy  xxil  0,  7. 


The  question  of  St.  Paul,  after  quot- 
ing a  precept  from  the  law  as  to  not 
muzzling  the  ox  when  it  treadeth  out 
the  corn,  will  here  naturally  recur  to 
your  minds,  "  Doth  God  take  care  for 
oxen  ?  "  On  hearing  our  text,  almost 
every  one  will  be  disposed  to  exclaim, 
"  Doth  God  take  care  for  birds  ]  "  Not 
that  the  question  is  meant  to  convey  any 
doubt  as  to  the  Divine  care  for  the  infe- 
rior creation.  We  know  that  God 
"  feedeth  the  young  ravens  that  call  up- 
on him,"  and  that,  though  five  sparrows 
are  sold  for  two  farthings,  "  not  one  of 
them  is  forgotten  before  God."  But 
when  St.  Paul  proposes  his  question  in 
regard  of  oxen,  it  is  not  to  insinuate  that 
it  was  beneath  God  to  take  care  of  oxen, 
or  that  the  precept,  which  he  quotes, 
was  not  designed  to  have  a  literal  appli- 
cation. What  he  wishes  to  have  under- 
stood, is  simply,  that  the  law  had  other 
and  higher  ends  in  view,  besides  the 
mere  securing  for  the  laboring  ox  a 
share  in  the  produce  of  his  labors.  He 
instructs  us  that  such  a  precept  was 
meant  to  have  a  figurative,  or  symboli- 
cal, as  well  as  a  literal  interpretation ; 
that,  whilst,  in  obedience  to  it,  the  ox 


was  not  to  be  muzzled  when  treading 
out  the  corn,  in  further  obedience,  a  due 
maintenance  was  to  be  afforded  to  the 
preachers  of  the  Gospel.  "  Doth  God 
take  care  for  oxen  1  or  saith  he  it  alto- 
gether for  our  sakes?  For  our  sakes  no 
doubt  this  is  written  :  that  he  that  plow- 
eth  should  plow  in  hope,  and  that  he 
that  thresheth  in  hope  should  be  partak- 
er of  his  hope." 

In  thus  amplifying  a  precept  of  the 
law,  St.  Paul  may  be  said  to  have  fur- 
nished a  sreneral  rule  as  to  the  mode  in 
which  similar  precepts  should  be  inter- 
preted and  applied.  We  are  not  to  re- 
gard them  as  bavins-  to  do  merely  with 
the  specific  case  to  which  the  words  ad- 
dress themselves  :  we  are  rather  to 
search  for  the  principle  involved  in  the 
law,  or  on  which  the  law  is  founded  ;  to 
examine  in  what  other  cases  the  same 
principle  will  hold  good ;  and  to  con- 
clude, that,  in  every  such  case,  the  law 
was  intended  to  be  equally  binding. 

It  is  thus  that  we  shall  endeavor  to 
proceed  with  that  very  peculiar  law 
which  we  have  taken  as  our  present 
subject  of  discourse.  We  are  very  much 
struck  with  this  law,  not  because  it  has 
9 


66 


THE  BIRD'S  NEST. 


to  do  with  a  matter  apparently  trifling, 
and  unworthy  to  be  the  object  of  Divine 
legislation,  but  because  there  is  annexed 
to  it  the  same  promise  as  to  command- 
ments of  the  highest  import  and  require- 
ment.    For  you  will  observe  that  length 
of  days,   the  very  blessing   which  was 
to  flow  from  giving  to  parents  the  honor 
prescribed  by  the  fifth  commandment,  is 
held  forth  as  a  recompense  to  obedience 
in  this  matter  of  a  bird   and  her  nest. 
"  That  it  may  be  well    with   thee,  and 
that   thou   mayest    prolong   thy  days." 
The  commandment  may  have  to  do  with 
a  trivial  thing ;  but  it  is  evident  enough 
that  it  cannot  be  a  trivial  commandment : 
indeed,  no  commandment  can  be  which 
proceeds  from  God,  because  what  is  in- 
different, or  unimportant,    so  long  as  it 
is  not  the  subject  of  a  command,  changes 
its  whole  character  the  moment  that  it  is. 
But,  apart  from  this  general  consider- 
ation, on   which  we   may  find  occasion 
hereafter  to  insist,  the  mere  circumstance 
that  the  prolongation  of  life  is  set  forth 
as  the  result  of  obedience,  should  satisfy 
you  that  the  precept  before  us  is  not  to 
be  passed  over  as  requiring  little  notice, 
but  should  rather  be  studied  as  fraught 
with  instruction,  conveying,  like  that  ex- 
pounded by  St.  Paul,  figurative  lessons 
of  the  very   widest  application.      Dis- 
miss, then,  the  thought  which,  not  un- 
naturally, may  have  been  excited  by  the 
first    announcement    of    the    text,    the 
thought  of  there  being  almost  something 
to  provoke  a  smile  in  a  bird's  nest  giv- 
ing  subject  for   a  sermon.     Let  us  en- 
deavor to   ascertain  on  what  principles 
the  precept  before  us  is  founded,  what 
dispositions  it  inculcates  and  cherishes  ; 
and  we  shall  find  that  there  is  no  cause 
for  surprise,  in  the  annexment  of  a  pro- 
mise of  long  life  to  obedience  to  the  di- 
rection, "  If  a  bird's  nest  chance  to  be 
before   thee  in  the  way  in  any  tree,  or 
on  the  ground,  thou  shalt  not  take  the 
dam  with  the  young." 

Now  you  will  see  at  once,  that,  had 
the  precept  been  of  a  more  stringent 
character,  it  might,  in  some  sense,  have 
been  more  easily  vindicated  and  explain- 
ed. Had  it  forbidden  altogether  the 
meddling  with  the  nest,  had  it  required 
that  not  only  should  the  mother-bird  be 
let  go,  but  that  neither  the  young  birds, 
nor  the  eggs,  should  be  taken,  it  would 
at  once  have  been  said  that  God  was 
graciously  protecting  the  inferior  crea- 


tion, and  forbidding  man  to  act  towards 
them  with  any  kind  of  cruelty.  But  the 
precept  permits  the  taking  the  nest  :  it 
does  not  even  hint  that  it  might  be  bet- 
ter to  let  the  nest  alone  :  it  simply  con 
fines  itself  to  protecting  the  parent-bird, 
and  thus  allows,  if  it  does  not  actually 
direct,  what  may  be  thought  an  inhuman 
thing,  the  carrying  off  the  young  to  the 
manifest  disappointment'  and  pain  of 
the  mother. 

It  should  not  however  be  unobserved, 
that  the  precept  does  not  touch  the  case 
in  which  there  is  an   actual  looking  for 
the    nest.     It    is  not    a  direction  as  to 
what  should  be  done,   if  a  nest  were 
found  after  diligent  search  ;  but  only  as 
to  what  should  be  done,  if  a  nest  were 
found  by  mere  chance  or  accident.    You 
will   observe  how  the  precept  is  intro- 
duced, "  If  a  bird's  nest  chance  to  be 
before  thee  in  the  way  in   any  tree,  or 
on  the  ground."      The  nest  was  to  be  in 
some  exposed  situation,  where  it  could 
not  well  be   overlooked ;   and  this   cir- 
cumstance may  have  had  to  do  with  the 
construction    of    the   commandment. — 
Without  pretending  to  argue   that  God 
would  have  forbidden  the  searching  for 
the  nest,  it  is  highly  probable  that  there 
was  something  significant  in  this  direc- 
tion as  to  taking  the   nest,  in  the  parti- 
cular case  when  that  nest  had  been  un- 
wisely placed.     We  are  sure,  from  va- 
rious testimonies  of  Scripture,  that  God 
has  designed  to  instruct  us  in  and  through 
the  inferior  creation,  the  birds  of  the  air, 
and  the  beasts  of  the  field,  beinor  often 
appealed  to  when  men  have  to  be  taught 
and  admonished.     And   we   know  not, 
therefore,  that   there  can  be  any   thing 
far-fetched  in  supposing,  that,  by  sanc- 
tioning a  sort  of  injury  to  the  bird,  which 
had  built  its  nest  in   an  insecure  place, 
God  meant  to  teach  us,  that,  if  we  will 
not  take  due  precautions   for  our  own 
safety,  we  are  not  to  expect  the  shield 
of  his  protection.     There  would  hardly 
have    been    such  emphasis  laid  on  the 
nest's  "  chancing  to  be  in  the  way,"  if 
it  had  not  been  designed  that  we  should 
observe  how  unwisely  the  nest  had  been 
placed,  and  draw  some  inference  as  to 
the  need  of  prudence  on  our  own  part, 
if  we  hope  to  experience  the  guardian- 
ship of  God. 

This,  however,  only  goes  to  the  ex- 
plaining why  there  was  any  permission 
for    taking  the  nest,  when  you    might 


THE  BIRD  S  NEST. 


67 


rather    have    expected,   that,  had  God 
legislated    on   such  a  matter  at  all,    it 
would  have  been  for  the  protection  of  the 
young  birds  as  well  as  of  the  old.     But 
now,  as  to  the  permission  itself,  we  may 
throw  together  some  general  considera- 
tions which  go  to  the  showing  that  there 
was  great  significance   in    the   allowing 
that  only   the  young  should  be   taken, 
whilst  the  old  were  let  go.     Were  not 
the  Israelites  hereby  taught  to  be  mode- 
rate in  their  desires  ?     The  first  impulse 
would  be  to  seize  the  old  bird  with  the 
young,  and  thus  secure  as  much  as  pos- 
sible.    But  this  is  nothing   better  than 
the  impulse  of  covetousness  ;   and  it  was 
like  evrmg  a  lesson  against  covetousness, 
a  lesson  so  constructed  as  to  be  capable 
of  being  reproduced  in  great  variety  of 
circumstances,    when    the    finder    of   a 
prize,  who  might  fancy  himself  at  liberty 
to  appropriate   the  whole,  was  required 
to  content  himself  with   a  part.     And, 
over  and  above  the  lesson  against  covet- 
ousness, there  was  also  in  the  precept  a 
lesson    against    recklessness    or    waste. 
For  to  have  taken  possession  of  the  old 
bird   together  with   the    young,   would 
have   been  to   have   destroyed,   in  that 
case,   the  further  multiplication  of  the 
kind  :    in   certain   states   of  the  animal 
creation,  it  would  have  been  almost  tan- 
tamount to  the  extinguishing  a  species  ; 
and  in  every  state  it  was  doing  as  much 
aSj  at  the  moment,  could  be  done  towards 
preventing  a  species  from  increasing  on 
the  earth. 

The  precept  set  itself  against  this  im- 
provident and  wasteful  appropriation  of 
God's  creatures.  It  required  man,  whilst 
supplying  his  present  wants,  to  have  due 
regard  to  his  future  ;  yea,  and  to  the 
wants  of  others,  as  well  as  to  his  own  : 
it  virtually  said  to  him,  Take  what  is 
enough  for  thee  to-day,  in  taking  the 
nest ;  but  the  old  bird  may  build  another 
nest,  which  may  be  useful  to  another, 
or  to  thyself  another  day ;  therefore, 
"thou  shalt  in  any  wise  let  the  dam  go." 
We  do  not  of  course  mean  that  such  a 
lesson  was  to  hold  good  merely  in  the 
particular  instance.  On  the  contrary, 
there  is  a  general  principle  thus  shown 
to  be  involved  in  the  precept ;  and  we 
are  supposing  that  the  precept  was  con- 
structed for  the  purpose  of  embodying 
and  enforcing  such  principles.  There 
is  a  reckless  disposition  in  many,  a  pro- 
fuse expenditure  of  whatsoever  they  can 


lay  hands  on,  little  regard  being  had  to 
future  wants,  and  the  very  means  of 
supplying  them  being  often  improvi- 
dently  and  unnecessarily  anticipated. 
Does  not  the  precept  before  us  distinctly 
condemn  all  such  prodigality,  extrava- 
gance, and  want  of  due  forethought ? 
You  may  apply  the  principle  to  a  hun- 
dred cases.  Whenever  men  live  upon 
the  caj}ital,  when  the  interest  would 
suffice;  whenever  they  recklessly  con- 
sume all  their  earnings,  though  those 
earnings  might  enable  them  to  lay  some- 
thing by ;  when,  so  long  as,  by  eager 
grasping,  they  can  secure  what  they  like 
for  themselves,  they  are  utterly  indiffer- 
ent as  to  interfering  with  the  supplies 
and  enjoyments  of  others — in  every  such 
case,  they  are  violating  the  precept  be- 
fore us  ;  they  are  taking  the  old  bird 
with  the  young  ;  as,  on  the  other  hand, 
by  treating  as  a  sin  any  thing  like  waste- 
fulness, by  a  prudent  management  of 
the  gifts  and  mercies  of  God,  by  such 
a  wise  husbandry  of  resources  as  shall 
prove  a  consciousness  that  the  Di- 
vine liberality  in  place  of  sanctioning 
extravagance,  should  be  a  motive  to 
economy,  they  may  be  said  to  be  vir- 
tually obeying  the  precept;  they  are 
taking  the  young,  but  letting  the  dam 

And  though  these  are  but  general 
considerations,  which  can  hardly  be  said 
to  carry  you  into  the  interior  of  the 
commandment,  so  as  to  show  you  why 
long  life  should  be  annexed  to  obedience, 
they  may  yet  suffice  to  divest  that  com- 
mandment of  all  the  air  of  trivial  legis- 
lation with  which  you  might  be  ready, 
on  its  first  announcement,  to  consider  it 
invested.  True,  it  is  only  about  a  bird's 
nest  that  the  ever-living  God  is  here  de- 
livering a  law.  But  if  there  be  couched 
in  that  law  denunciations  alike  of  the 
covetous  and  the  spendthrift,  so  that 
every  one,  who  studied  its  spirit,  would 
find  himself  directed  to  a  risrht  use  of 

O 

God's  creatures,  surely  enough  has  al- 
ready been  said  to  do  away  all  surprise 
at  finding  in  the  Jewish  code  such  a  di- 
rection  as  this,  "  If  a  bird's  nest  chance 
to  be  before  thee  in  the  way,  thou  shalt 
in  any  wise  take  to  thee  the  young,  and 
let  the  dam  go." 

But  now  let  us  look  more  narrowly 
into  the  reasons  of  the  precept  :  we 
shall  probably  find,  if  we  examine  the 
peculiarities  of  the  case,  that  the  com- 


68 


THE  BIRDS  NEST. 


mandment  before  us  has  a  yet  more  di- 
rect and  extensive  application.  It  could 
oidy  be,  yon  will  observe,  the  attach- 
ment of  the  mother-bird  to  its  young, 
which,  for  the  most  part,  would  put  it  in 
the  power  of  the  finder  of  the  nest  to  take 
both  together.  If  the  mother-bird  cared 
only  for  her  own  safety,  if  she  were  indif- 
ferent to  her  offspring,  she  would  take 
flight  in  any  possible  danger,  and  leave 
the  inmates  of  the  nest  a  prey  to  any 
enemy.  But  her  powerful  affection  to- 
wards her  defenceless  little  ones  keeps 
her  close  to  them,  makes  her  hover 
about  them  when  threatened  with  dan- 
ger, and  even  urges  her  to  resist  an  as- 
sailant, whom,  under  any  other  circum- 
stances, she  would  have  fled  from  pre- 
cipitately. So  that,  except  in  some  rare 
instances,  it  is  nothing  but  parental 
affection  which  would  put  it  in 
man's  power  to  take  the  old  with  the 
young :  the  young  cannot  make  their 
escape,  but  the  mother-bird  might ; 
and  the  mother-bird  would,  if  she  were 
not  the  mother-bird,  and  moved  by  the 
strongest  instinct  to  stay  with  her 
brood. 

And  when  you  bring  this  circumstance 
into  the  account,  you  can  hardly  doubt 
that  one  great  reason  why  God  protect- 
ed the  mother-bird  by  an  express  com- 
mandment, was,  that  He  might  point 
out  the  excellence  of  parental  affection, 
and  teach  us  that  we  were  not  to  take 
advantage  of  such  an  affection,  in  order  to 
any  injury  to  the  parties  who  displayed 
it.  He  would  not  have  the  mother-bird 
injured,  when  it  was  only  her  affection 
as  a  mother  which  gave  the  opportunity 
of  injuring  her.  Under  other  circum- 
stances, this  mother-bird  might  be  taken  ; 
there  was  no  law  against  that ;  but 
whensoever  it  was  her  attachment  to 
her  young  which  exposed  her  to  the 
being  taken,  then  God  interposed  with 
a  distinct  prohibition,  and  commanded 
that  she  should  not  be  taken.  Surely  it 
may  justly  be  said  that  God  hereby 
threw  a  kind  of  sacredness  around  pa- 
rental affection,  and  delivered  moreover 
a  solemn  injunction  against  our  ever 
making  use  of  the  power,  which  such 
an  affection  may  give  us,  to  work  mis- 
chief to  the  party  by  whom  it  is  display- 
ed. This  is  one  of  the  most  important 
of  the  points  of  view  under  which  the 
text  can  be  considered ;  and  we  shall 
strive,  by  some  general  illustrations,  to 


put  you  well  in  posssesion   of  the  pre- 
cise facts  of  the  case. 

You  must  be  all  quite  aware,  that  the 
affection  which  one  party  bears  to  ano- 
ther, may  be  taken  advantage  of,  and 
that,  too,  to  his  manifest  detriment.  For 
example,  circumstances  place  the  child 
of  another  in  your  power ;  you  are 
about  to  oppress  or  ill  use  that  child  : 
the  parent  entreats  :  you  agree  to  re- 
lease the  child,  but  only  on  conditions 
with  which  the  parent  would  never  have 
complied,  had  it  not  been  for  the  strong 
pleadings  of  natural  affection — what  do 
you  do  in  such  a  case  but  make  use  of  a 
power,  derived  solely  from  the  parent's 
love,  to  effect  the  parent's  injury  1  you 
seize,  so  to  speak,  the  mother-bird,  when 
it  is  only  her  being  the  mother-bird  which 
has  given  you  the  opportunity  of  seizure. 

This  is  a  precise  case  in  point ;  but 
you  may  say  that  it  is  one  only  of  imagi- 
nary occurrence,  and  not  at  all  likely. 
We  admit  that.  But  what  we  want  is, 
that  you  should  get  hold  of  the  princi- 
ple involved  in  the  text,  and  you  will 
then  quickly  see  how  it  works  in  great 
variety  of  cases.  And  you  get  hold  of 
the  principle  by  observing  such  a  case 
as  has  just  been  supposed.  There  the 
opportunity  of  injuring  a  parent  is  fur- 
nished through  that  parent's  affection 
for  a  child  ;  and  the  precept  before  us 
is  violated,  inasmuch  as  the  affection,  in 
place  of  serving  as  a  shield  to  the  pa- 
rent, is  taken  advantage  of  for  the  doincr 
him  a  mischief. 

But  evidently  the  involved  principle 
is  of  very  wide  application.  A  parent 
may  take  improper  advantage  of  a 
child's  love,  a  child  of  a  parent's.  A 
parent  may  work  on  the  affections  of  a 
child,  urging  the  child,  by  the  love 
which  he  bears  to  a  father  or  mother,  to 
do  something  wrong,  something  against 
which  conscience  remonstrates  :  this  is 
a  case  in  point ;  this  is  a  case  in  which 
improper  advantage  is  taken  of  affection, 
or  injurious  use  is  made  of  a  power, 
which,  as  in  the  case  of  the  bird  and 
her  young,  nothing  but  strong  affection 
has  originated.  Suppose,  for  instance, 
the  child  is  of  a  serious  and  religious 
turn  of  mind,  averse  from  scenes  of 
frivolity  and  dissipation,  and  the  pa- 
rent wishes  to  take  the  child  into  such 
scenes,  and  makes  the  child's  accom- 
panying him  a  test  of  filial  attach- 
ment ;  why,  that  parent  is  working  the 


THE  BIRDS  NEST. 


69 


child's  injury  through  the  child's  affec- 
tion ;  the  very  thing  which  is  virtually 
forbidden  by  the  precept  before  us. 

On  the  other  hand,  a  child  may  make 
an  improper  use  of  a  parent's  affection. 
Wishing1  for  something  which   the  pa- 

O  OX 

rent,  as  he  knows,  disapproves  and 
thinks 'wrong,  some  gratification,  indul- 
gence, amusement,  he  may  work  upon 
the  parent's  love  ;  he  may  appeal  to  that 
love,  calculating  that  it  will  not  be  able 
to  resist  his  importunity.  This  is  the 
same  thing  again  :  here  a  wrong  is  at- 
tempted towards  the  parent,  (for  a  wrong 
is  done  by  an  inducement  to  do  wrong,) 
and  it  is  only  the  affection  of  the  parent 
which  gives  the  opportunity  of  making 
the  attempt. 

Or,  to  pass  out  of  the  particular  case  of 
parents  and  children,  all  the  attachments 
which  exist  in  life,  and  bind  together 
the  various  members  of  society,  may  be 
taken  advantage  of  for  some  injurious 
purpose,  inasmuch  as  they  will  open  a 
door  of  assault  where  otherwise  the 
party  would  be  cpiite  beyond  reach. 
The  husband  may  use  the  influence 
given  him  by  the  affection  of  the  wife, 
to  induce  her  to  comply  with  his  wishes 
in  things  which  she  feels,  or  suspects  to 
be  wrong.  The  wife  may  make  pre- 
cisely the  same  use  of  the  affection  of 
her  husband  :  she  may  work  upon  him 
through  that  affection;  endeavoring  to 
persuade  him  into  courses  from  which 
he  is  repugnant,  and  which,  had  it  not 
been  for  his  affection,  she  would  have 
had  no  opportunity,  or  at  least  no  likeli- 
hood, of  prevailing  on  him  to  adopt. 

It  is  exactly  the  same  amongst  brothers 
and  sisters,  amongst  friends  and  acquaint- 
ances. Any  one  relation  may  take  ad- 
vantage of  another,  and  work,  through 
that  affection,  the  injury  of  the  party  by 
whom  it  is  entertained.  The  parent 
bird,  clinging  to  the  nest,  is  but  an  ex- 
ample how  binding  the  natural  affections 
may  be,  and  how  these  affections  may 
expose  to  dangers  which,  but  for  them, 
would  never  be  incurred.  And  the  ex- 
press direction  to  let  go  the  parent  bird, 
has  only  to  be  expanded  by  expanding 
the  principle  which  it  palpably  involves, 
and  you  have  a  general  charge  as  to 
carefulness  in  using 'the  power  which  is 
derived  to  you  from  the  affections  of 
others.  God  endowed  us  with  these 
affections,  writh  the  gracious  purpose  of 
smoothing  and  sweetening  life,  and  of 


furnishing  an  instrumentality  through 
which  Himself  might  be  appreciated, 
and  apprehended  as  our  chief  good. 
And  it  is  a  mighty  power,  for  injuring, 
or  for  benefiting,  which  is  conferred  by 
lliese  affections.  You  can  hardly  over- 
rate the  influence  which,  in  the  several 
relations  of  life,  is  possessed  by  those 
who  are  the  objects  of  these  affections, 
an  influence  which  would  wholly  disap- 
pear, were  the  affections  withdrawn. 
And  God  would  have  us  shun,  with  the 
greatest  possible  solicitude,  the  making 
an  ungenerous  use  of  this  influence, 
turning  it  to  the  injury  of  the  party 
whose  affection  has  created  it.  Parents 
are  to  be  specially  careful  what  advan- 
tage they  take  of  filial  love,  and  children, 
what  advantage  they  take  of  parental. 
Each  must  shun,  as  they  would  the 
desecration  of  what  is  holy,  and  the  per- 
petrating what  is  base,  the  working  on 
the  other,  against  the  dictates  of  that 
other's  conscience,  through  the  medium 
of  the  affections.  If  the  mother-bird 
is  to  be  taken,  at  least  let  it  not  be  whilst 
sitting  on  the  nest.  It  is  bad  enough  to 
bring  a  friend,  or  relation,  into  moral 
danger,  to  make  him  the  captive  of  sin  : 
it  is  worse,  it  is  like  what  is  elsewhere 
denounced  in  Scripture,  the  seething  a 
kid  in  its  mother's  milk,  to  use  his  at- 
tachment-to  accelerate  his  ruin. 

Consider  then,  all  of  you,  whatever 
the  special  ties  which  associate  you  with 
others,  that  you  commit  a  signal  sin,  a 
sin  signally  displeasing  to  God  from  its 
ungenerous,  or,  rather,  unnatural  cha- 
racter, when,  in  place  of  usingthe  influ- 
ence which  affection  confers,  to  the 
making  others  more  devoted  to  religion, 
you  employ  it  on  the  keeping  them  in 
bondage  to  Satan,  or  on  bringing  them 
back  after  they  had  broken  the  chain. 
You  thought  that  our  text  had  to  do 
with  a  very  trivial  matter;  you  were 
almost  readvto  smile  that  there  should 
be  a  law  about  birds'  nests.  But  now 
observe  where  we  have  found  that  nest : 
we  have  found  it  amid  the  warmest 
charities  of  the  heart,  builded  of  those 
tender  and  glowing  affections,  which 
you  have  only  to  destroy,  and  you  make 
earth  a  desert.  And  because  there  is 
such  a  nest,  a  nest  brooded  upon  by 
bright  rich  wings,  which  even  danger 
cannot  provoke  into  flight,  you  possess 
a  power  of  doing  an  injury;  you  may 
help  to  imprison  an  immortal  soul,  a  soul, 


70 


THE  BIRD'S  NEST. 


which,  had  it  not  been  thus  detained,  i 
would  have  sprung  upwards,  and  reach- 
ed "the  glorious  liberty  of  the  children 
of  God."  O  foul,  flagitious  use  of  a 
power  bestowed  by  an  affection  which 
should  have  secured,  as  it  deserved, 
most  generous  treatment  !  ()  wretched 
parents,  who,  knowing  the  devoted  at- 
tachment of  children,  work  through  that 
attachment  to  the  persuading  them  to 
seek  happiness  in  the  world  !  O  wretch- 
ed children,  who,  calculating  on  the 
fondness  of  parents,  entreat  permission 
to  adventure  into  scenes  of  temptation  ! 
O  wretched  kinsfolk,  wretched  friends, 
who,  knowing  themselves  beloved, 
would  urge  those  who  love  them  to 
commence,  or  continue,  some  unrigh- 
teous practice  !  Again  we  say,  if  ye 
will  seethe  the  kid,  at  least  seethe  it 
not  in  its  mother's  milk.  If  you  must 
help  to  keep  others  in  sin,  let  it  not  be 
through  the  power  which  their  affection 
communicates.  This  is  aggravating  the 
guilt  :  this  is  making  the  injury  more 
atrocious  :  this  is  abusing  a  high  trust, 
gaining  a  heart  that  you  may  pierce  it, 
a  fountain  that  you  may  poison  it.  And 
this  is  what  is  so  forcibly,  though  figura- 
tively, denounced  by  the  precept  of  our 
text,  a  precept  which  says  nothing 
against  seizing  the  parent  bird,  when  it 
is  not  her  affection  for  her  brood  which 
puts  her  in  your  power,  but  which,  in 
that  case,  is  most  decisive  against  her 
being  made  prisoner  :  "  Thou  shalt  not 
take  the  dam  with  the  young ;  thou  shalt 
in  any  wise  let  the  dam  go,  that  it  may 
be  well  with  thee,  and  that  thou  mayest 
prolong  thy  days." 

But  our  text  has  yet  to  be  considered 
under  another  point  of  view.  We  have 
hitherto  contended,  that,  though  it  be 
apparently  an  insignificant  matter  with 
which  the  commandment  before  us  is 
concerned,  principles  are  involved  of  a 
high  order,  and  a  wide  application,  so 
that  there  is  no  reason  for  surprise  at 
finding  long  life  promised  as  the  reward 
of  obedience.  But  we  will  now  assume 
the  Jews'  opinion  to  have  been  correct : 
they  were  wont  to  say  of  this  command- 
ment, that  it  was  the  least  amongst  the 
commandments  of  Moses.  Admit  it  to 
have  been  so;  admit  it  to  have  been  a 
very  trifling  thing  which  was  enjoined, 
and  that  no  satisfactory  reason  can  be 
given  why  the  Divine  lawgiver  should 
have  made  a  specific   enactment  as  to 


such  a  matter  as  a  bird's  nest.  There 
are  other  commandments  in  the  law,  for 
which  it  might  be  hard  to  assign  any 
sufficient  reason,  save  and  except  that  it 
was  God's  pleasure  to  ordain  them. 
There  may  have  been  some  figurative, 
or  symbolical,  meaning  ;  but  perhaps  it 
is  as  well  to  suppose  and  confess  that 
God  merely  sought  to  put  obedience  to 
the  proof,  when  He  said,  "  Thou  shalt 
not  wear  a  garment  of  divers  sorts,  as 
of  woolen  and  linen  together ; "  or, 
"  Thou  shalt  make  thee  fringes  upon  the 
four  quarters  of  thy  vesture,  wherewith 
thou  coverest  thyself." 

Yet,  admitting  that  there  are  such 
things  as  commandments  about  trifles, 
admitting  also  that  the  commandment 
before  us  may  be  reckoned  in  the  num- 
ber, is  there  any  cause  for  wonder  that 
such  a  blessing  as  Ion?  life  should  be 
promised  by  way  of  recompense  to  obe- 
dience 1  My  brethren,  there  is  a  great- 
er trial  of  obedience,  in  a  commandment 
of  which  we  cannot  see  the  reasons,  than 
in  another  of  which  we  can.  In  the 
former  case,  we  do,  or  forbear,  a  thing, 
simply  because  God  hath  enjoined,  or 
forbidden,  it ;  in  the  latter,  we  are  not 
moved  purely  by  the  divinity  of  the 
precept,  we  are  actuated  also  by  a  sense 
of  its  propriety.  A  commandment  which 
forbids  murder,  is  a  commandment  syl- 
labled by  conscience,  as  well  as  deliver- 
ed by  God  :  he  who  lifts  his  hand  to 
slay  another,  does  as  much  violence  to 
an  irrepressible  dictate  from  within,  as 
to  an  indelible  record  from  without.  But 
a  commandment  which  forbids  the  seiz- 
ing a  bird  whilst  sitting  on  the  nest,  is 
a  commandment  which  takes  its  force 
purely  from  being  a  commandment  :  you 
might  have  done  the  thing:  innocently, 
had  there  been  no  express  prohibition  ; 
and,  therefore,  it  is  only  there  being;  a 

«■'  O 

prohibition  which  makes  the  doing  it 
wrong.  And  surely,  it  may  be  a  greater 
effort  of  obedience,  to  obey  in  some  lit- 
tle thing,  where  there  is  no  other  reason 
but  that  God  hath  required  it,  than  to 
obey   in   some  great   thing,  where   our 

own  sense  of  what  is  ritrht  urg-es  to  com- 
es o 

pliance. 

The  tendency  of  our  minds  is  to  the 
asking  a  reason  for  every  thin?.  It  is 
so  with  doctrines.  God  reveals  to  us  a 
truth  :  but  we  are  not  content  to  take  it 
on  the  authority  of  revelation  ;  we  are 
for  asking  with  Nicodemus,   "  How  can 


THE  BIRDS  NEST. 


these  things  be  ]  "  we  want  to  be  able  to 
explain  the  doctrine,  and  thus  to  find 
grounds  for  our  belief,  over  and  above 
the  simple  word  of  the  Lord.  But  un- 
doubtedly it  is  a  higher,  and  must  be  a 
more  acceptable,  exercise  of  faith,  when 
we  receive  a  truth,  because  revealed, 
than  when,  because,  besides  being  re- 
vealed, we  can  so  arrange  it  that  it  com- 
mends  itself  to  our  reason. 

It  is  the  same  with  commandments. 
God  enjoins  a  certain  thing  :  but  we  can 
hardly  bring  ourselves  to  obey,  simply 
because  He  has  enjoined  it.  We  have 
our  inquiries  to  urge — why  has  He  en- 
joined it  I  if  it  be  an  indifferent  thing, 
we  want  to  know  why  He  should  have 
made  it  the  subject  of  a  law  1  why  not 
have  let  it  alone  ?  Why  not  ]  Because, 
we  may  venture  to  reply,  He  wishes  to 
test  the  principle  of  obedience :  He 
wishes  to  see  whether  his  will  and  his 
word  are  sufficient  for  us.  In  order  to 
this,  He  must  legislate  upon  things  which 
in  themselves  are  indifferent,  neither 
morally  good  nor  morally  bad  :  He  must 
not  confine  laws  to  such  matters  as  rob- 
bing a  neighbor's  house,  on  which  con- 
science is  urgent ;  He  must  extend  them 
to  such  matters  as  taking  a  bird's  nest, 
on  which  conscience  is  silent. 

It  is  the  same  as  with  a  child.  He  is 
walking  in  a  stranger's  garden,  and  you 
forbid  his  picking  fruit:  he  knows  that 
the  fruit  is  not  his,  and  therefore  feels  a 
reason  for  the  prohibition.  But  he  is 
walking  on  a  common,  and  you  forbid 
his  picking  wild  flowers  :  he  knows  that 
no  one  has  property  in  these  flowers, 
and  therefore  he  cannot  see  any  reason 
for  your  prohibition.  Suppose  him  how- 
ever to  obey  in  both  cases,  abstaining 
alike  from  the  flowers  and  the  fruit,  in 
which  case  does  he  show  most  of  the 
principle  of  obedience,  most  of  respect 
for  your  authority  and  of  submission  to 
your  will  %  Surely,  when  he  does  not 
touch  the  flowers,  which  he  sees  no  rea- 
son for  not  touching,  rather  than  when 
he  does  not  gather  the  fruit,  which  he 
feels  that  he  can  have  no  right  to  gather. 

It  is  exactly  the  same  with  God  and 
ourselves.  He  may  forbid  things  which 
we  should  have  felt  to  be  wrong,  even 
had  they  nut  been  forbidden  :  He  may 
forbid  things  which  we  should  not  have 
felt  wrong,  nay,  which  would  not  have 
been  wrong,  unless  He  had  forbidden 
them.     But  in   which  case  is  our  obe- 


71 

dience  most  put  to  the  proof  ]  not  sure- 
ly as  to  the  thing  criminal  even  without 
a  commandment :  but  as  to  the  thing  in- 
different till  there  was  a  commandment. 
God  might  have  made  it  the  test  of 
Adam's  obedience  that  he  should  not 
kill  Eve — a  crime  from  which  he  would 
have  instinctively  revolted  :  but  it  was 
a  much  greater  trial  that  he  should  not 
eat  of  a  particular  fruit  ;  for  eating  it 
was  no  crime  till  he  was  told  not  to  eat  , 
it. 

And  we  may  justly  believe  that, 'in. 
constructing  the  Jewish  code,  God  in- 
terspersed laws  for  which  there  was  -no 
apparent  reason  with  others  for  which 
there  was  palpable,  on  purpose  that  He 
might  see  whether  his  people  would 
obey  his  word,  simply  because  it  was 
his  word ;  whether  they  would  wait  to 
know  why  He  commanded,  or  be  satis- 
fied with  ascertaining  what  He  com- 
manded. But  upon  this,  which  is  mani- 
festly the  correct  view  of  obedience,  it 
is  to  inconsiderable  precepts,  precepts 
as  to  inconsiderable  things,  rather  than 
to  those  which  have  to  do  with  felt  and 
undeniable  duties,  that  we  might  expect 
to  find  annexed  a  promise  of  reward. 
The  obedience  which  shows  most  ofthe 
readiness  to  obey,  must  be  the  obe- 
dience which  God  most  approves  :  'and 
if  there  be  shown  more  of  readiness  to 
obey,  where  the  thing  done  would  have 
been  indifferent,  than  where  it  would 
have  been  criminal  without  express 
command,  we  can  have  no  difficulty  in 
settling  that  the  recompense  of  long  life 
was  even  more  to  be  looked  for  when 
the  precept  had  to  do  with  a  trifle  than 
when  with  the  mightiest  obligation. 
Look  at  the  Jewish  law — "  Thou  shalt 
not  pervert  the  judgment  of  the  stran- 
ger, nor  of  the  fatherless," — a  noble 
commandment,  to  whose  fitness  every 
heart  responds.  "  If  a  bird's  nest  chance 
to  be  before  thee,  thou  shalt  not  take 
the  dam  with  the  young," — a  trivial 
comandtnent,  for  which  it  is  perhaps 
hard  to  assign  any  reason.  Yet  it  is  to 
the  latter,  the  trivial,  and  not  to  the  for- 
mer, the  noble,  that  the  words  are  add- 
ed, "  That  it  may  be  well  with  thee,  and 
that  thou  mayest  prolong  thy  days." 
Do  ye  wonder  at  this  1  Nay,  it  is  not 
that  it  is  a  better  thing  in  itself  to  let 
the  parent  bird  go,  than  to  minister  jus- 
tice to  the  stranger  and  the  fatherless  : 
but  that  it  is  often   harder  to  obey  in 


72 


THE  BIRD  S  NEST. 


trifles,  where  we  looked  to  have  been 
left  fit  liberty,  than  in  great  things,  as  to 
whose  fitness  there  has  never  been  a 
doubt. 

By  Buch  laws,  with  such  sanctions, 
God  may  be  said  to  have  consecrated 
trifles ;  to  have  taught  us  that  trifles 
may  be  the  best  tests  of  principles;  that 
our  religion  may  be  better  proved  by 
the  habitual  giving  up  of  our  own  wills 
in  common  and  every-day  things,  than 
by  occasional  and  opulent  sacrifices ; 
that  it  is  a  greater  effort  of  piety,  mark- 
ing more  the  depth  of  our  reverence  for 
the  word  of  the  Almighty,  to  make  con- 
science of  little  duties  which  are  made 
duties  only  by  that  word,  than  to  give 
Ourselves  to  high  tasks,  to  which  we  are 
summoned  by  the  wants  of  the  world 
and  the  voice  of  the  Church.  It  may 
be  easier,  it  may  require  less  of  that 
simple,  unquestioning  obedience  in 
which  God  delights,  to  attack  supersti- 
tion on  its  throne,  than  to  let  the  bird 
fly  from  its  nest.  Be  careful,  then,  in 
religion  how  you  make  trifles  of  trifles. 
Stay  not  to  find  out  why  God  has  for- 
bidden this  or  that  indulgence,  why  He 
will  not  let  you  do  wdiat  seems  unim- 
portant, why  He  prescribes  rules  where 
He  might,  as  it  appears,  have  safely  left 
you  to  yourselves.  Obey  because  there 
is  a  command,  ay,  though  it  be  only  the 
faintest  expression  of  the  Divinest  will; 
Abraham  was  to  slay  Isaac,  because 
God  commanded  it  ;  you  are  to  let  go 
the  bird,  because  God  commands  it. 
This  is  the  obedience  which  God  ap- 
proves ;  this  is  the  obedience  which  God 
will  recompense  ;  obedience,  not  with- 
out a  reason,  bui  with  no  reason  except 
the  Divine  bidding.  Oh  !  you  have  only 
more  and  more  to  show  me  that  it  was 
really  unimportant,  whether  or  not  the 
old  bird  were  taken  with  the  young,  that 
there  could  have  been  no  harm  in  secur- 
ing both  at  once,  and  you  more  and 
more  explain  why  a  promise  of  prosper- 
ity should  be  annexed  to  the  command- 
ment, "  Thou  shalt  not  take  the  dam 
with  the  young  ;  thou  shalt  in  any  wise 
take  the  young  to  thee,  and  let  the  dam 

There  is  neither  space  nor  need  for 
many  concluding  observations.  Our  sub- 
ject   perhaps    looked    to     you    unpro- 


1  mising  at  the  first,  and  you  fancied  that 
1  little  material  of  edification  could  be 
found  in  such  a  precept  as  we  took  for 
our  text.  Yet  the  piecept  has  furnish- 
ed us  with  important  practical  lessons, 
lessons  against  covetousness,  against 
cruelty,  against  extravagance,  against 
an  undue  use  of  the  power  given  us  by 
the  affections  of  others,  against  the  mak- 
ing little  in  religion  of  little  command- 
ments  and  little  duties.  What  a  won- 
derful book  is  the  Bible,  that  its  every 
I  verse  should  comprehend  so  much,  sin- 
gle sayings  being  as  mines  of  truth, 
into  which  if  you  patiently  dig,  you  find 
stores  of  instruction  and  yet  leave  more 
than  you  find  ! 

Be  very  careful  in  reading  Scripture, 
whether  the  Old  Testament  or  the  New, 
that  you  pass  not  over  parts,  as  though 
they  might  be  unimportant.  Neither 
be  always  content  with  the  primary 
meaning,  and  the  obvious  application. 
Scripture  has  a  hidden  sense  as  well  as 
an  open  ;  and  to  them  who  search  for 
it  with  prayer,  many  a  beautiful  import 
is  disclosed,  which  would  never  be  sus- 
pected by  the  careless  or  cursory  ob- 
server. A  verse  is  often  like  the  nest 
on  which  the  parent  bird  broods  :  when 
the  parent  bird  islet  go,  there  are  young 
birds  within,  each  of  which  has  only  to 
be  cherished  and  watched,  and  it  will  be 
"  covered  with  silver  wings,  and  her 
feathers  like  gold." 

With  other  lessons,  then,  carry  away 
this  as  to  the  depth  and  comprehensive- 
ness of  Scripture.  Read  the  Bible  your- 
selves, and  teach  your  children  to  read 
it,  as  a  book  that  should  l>e  pondered, 
not  hurried  over;  a  book,  so  to  speak, 
that  may  be  better  read  by  lines  than  by 
chapters.  Ay,  your  children — one's 
home  is  as  a  nest ;  Job,  when  all  was 
smiling  around  him,  reports  of  himself, 
"Then  I  said,  I  shall  die  in  my  nest." 
It  is  a  nest,  a  nest  exposed  to  many  rude 
invasions.  The  parent  bird  cannot  al- 
ways tarry  with  the  young;  but,  when 
dismissed  to  wing  its  own  flight  up- 
wards, that  parent  bird  may  leave  its 
little  ones  to  a  better  guardianship,  and 
anticipate  a  day  when  they  too  shall 
soar  to  brighter  regions,  and  find  a  rest- 
ing-place in  that  tree  of  life  which  is 
Christ  Himself. 


ANGELS  OUR  GUARDIANS  IN  TRIFLES. 


73 


SERMON    IX. 


ANGELS  OUR  GUARDIANS  IN  TRIFLES. 


"  They  shall  bear  thee  up  in  their  hands,  lest  thou  dash  thy  foot  against  a  stone." — Psalm  xci.  12. 


The  preceding  verse  is,  "For  He 
shall  give  his  angels  charge  over  thee, 
to  keep  thee  in  all  thy  ways."  You 
will  remember  that,  when  Satan  had 
placed  our  blessed  Lord  on  the  pinnacle 
of  the  Temple,  it  was  with  these  two 
verses  that  he  backed  his  temptation 
that  He  should  cast  Himself  down,  and 
obtain,  tb rough  a  useless  and  ostentatious 
miracle,  the  homage  of  the  crowd  as- 
sembled for  worship.  But  the  devil  mis- 
quoted the  verses.  He  left  out  the 
words  "  in  all  thy  ways ;  "  thus  repre- 
senting the  angelic  guardianship  as  hav- 
ing no  limitation ;  whereas  the  promise 
was  evidently  meant  to  apply  only 
whilst  there  was  adherence  to  the  ways 
of  duty — those  alone  being  the  ways 
which  could  be  called  "thy  ways," 
whether  the  passage  were  applied  indi- 
vidually to  the  Messiah,  or  generally  to 
the  Church. 

It  has  been  inferred  from  this  appli- 
cation of  the  passage  by  Satan,  that  the 
words  were  prophetic  of  Christ,  and 
should  be  interpreted  especially,  if  not 
exclusively,  of  a  care  or  protection  of 
which  our  Savior  was  the  object.  This 
inference,  however,  can  hardly  be  sus- 
tained :  as  the  devil  could  misquote,  he 
could  also  misapply  ;  and  though  it  may 
be  that,  in  its  highest  significance,  this 
ninety-first  Psalm  has  respect  to  the 
Messiah,  there  is  nothing  in  its  tone  to 
give  reason  why  it  may  not  be  taken  to 
himself,  by  every  true  believer  in  "  the 
Lord  our  righteousness." 

We  shall  assume  throughout  our  dis- 
course, that  the  Psalm  is  the  property, 
so  to  speak,  generally  of  the  Church  :  it 
were  to  rob  the  members   of  some  of 


their  choicest  comfort  to  prove  that  it 
belonged  exclusively  to  the  Head.  If 
Satan  gained  nothing  by  applying  the 
Psalm  to  Christ,  he  would  have  gained 
much  if  it  were  thence  to  be  concluded 
that  it  applied  to  none  else. 

But  we  wish  also,  as  a  preliminary 
matter,  to  make  one  or  two  observations 
on  the  translation  adopted  in  the  author- 
ized version  of  our  text.  The  verb 
which  is  used  conveys  the  idea  of  some- 
thing very  violent,  "  lest  thou  dash  thy 
foot  against  a  stone."  But  it  does  not 
seem  as  if  the  original  required  us  to 
suppose  any  thing  very  violent.  The 
Hebrew  word  may  be  interpreted  mere- 
ly of  such  contact  with  a  stone  as  would 
make  you  stumble,  or  put  you  in  danger 
of  falling;  whereas  dashing  your  foot 
implies  extreme  force,  as  though  you 
were  the  subject  of  some  unusual  dis- 
aster or  accident.  You  see  that  it  makes 
a  great  difference  in  the  passage,  re- 
garded as  a  promise  to  the  righteous, 
which  of  the  two  turns  we  give  it  :  we 
are  always  in  danger  of  tripping  over  a 
stone  ;  we  are  not  always  in  danger  of 
dashing  the  foot  against  a  stone  :  so  that 
you  may  be  said  to  take  the  promise 
out  of  every-day  life,  and  to  confine  it 
to  extraordinary  emergencies,  when  it 
is  made  to  imply  such  violent  collision 
as  is  not  likely  to  occur  in  our  common 
walks. 

When  the  devil,  indeed,  used  the 
text  in  the  endeavor  to  persuade  Christ 
to  throw  Himself  headlong  from  the 
pinnacle  of  the  Temple,  it  was  literally 
the  dashing  the  foot  against  a  stone 
which  might  have  been  expected  to 
occur  :  accordingly  the  word  "  dash"  is 

10 


74 


ANGELS  OUR  GUARDIANS  IN  TRIFLES. 


employed  with  great  propi'iety  by  our 
translators,  in  giving  the  account  of  our 
blessed  Savior's  temptation.  Yet  it 
should  be  observed  that  even  the  Greek 
word,  which  is  thus  translated  "  clash," 
by  no  means  conveys  necessarily  the 
idea  of  great  force  or  violence.  It  is, 
for  example,  the  very  same  word  as  is 
employed  by  our  Lord  in  the  eleventh 
chapter  of  St.  John's  gospel,  where  He 
speaks  of  the  security  of  a  man  who 
walks  by  day,  as  compared  with  another 
who  walks  by  night.  "  Jesus  answered, 
Are  there  not  twelve  hours  in  the  day  '\ 
If  any  man  walk  in  the  day,  he  stumbleth 
not,  because  he  seeth  the  light  of  this 
world.  But  if  a  man  walk  in  the  night, 
he  stumbleth,  because  there  is  no  light  in 
him."  We  need  not  say  that  something 
much  less  than  dashing  the  foot  against  a 
stone,  will  cause  a  man  to  trip  or  stum- 
ble as  he  walks  in  a  dark  night.  He 
can  hardly  "  dash  the  foot"  unless  he  be 
running;  and  Christ,  at  least,  speaks 
only  of  his  walking. 

As  to  the  Hebrew  itself,  our  transla- 
tors have  not  always  made  it  convey  the 
idea  of  what  is  violent.  The  same  word 
occurs  in  the  third  chapter  of  the  book 
of  Proverbs,  where  you  read,  "  Then 
shalt  thou  walk  in  thy  way  safely,  and 
thy  foot  shall  not  stumble."  We  seem 
warranted,  then,  in  saying  that  nothing 
more  is  intended  in  our  text  than  that 
tripping  or  stumbling  which  may  in- 
deed occur  through  violent  contact  with 
some  great  impediment,  which  may  also 
be  occasioned  by  a  mere  pebble  in  our 
path,  and  when,  too,  we  are  proceeding 
at  a  leisurely  pace.  So  that,  for  once, 
the  Prayer  Book  version  is  probably  the 
more  accurate  of  the  two  :  for  this  runs, 
"  They  shall  bear  thee  in  their  hands, 
that  thou  hurt  not  thy  foot  against  a 
stone."  And  with  this  agrees  Bishop 
Horsley's  version,  "  They  shall  bear 
thee  up  in  their  hands,  that  thou  hit  not 
thy  foot  against  a  stone."  There  is  far 
less  of  the  idea  of  violence  in  the  hitting, 
than  in  the  dashing  the  foot  against  a 
stone. 

You  will  understand,  as  we  proceed 
with  our  discourse,  why  we  have  been 
so  anxious  to  divest  the  passage  of  the 
idea  of  violence.  Not  that  we  wish 
you  to  suppose  that  the  promise  does 
not  include  the  case  of  dashing  the  foot; 
but  we  would  have  you  aware  that  it 
includes  cases  where  there  is  nothing  of 


this  forcible  collision,  every  case  in 
which  a  man  is  in  danger  of  stumbling, 
over  however  small  an  obstacle,  and  by 
however  gentle  a  movement. 

These  are  the  necessary  preliminaries 
to  our  discourse,  the  settling  to  whom 
the  text  may  be  applied,  and  the  defining 
the  precise  import  of  its  expressions. 
The  text,  you  see,  is  to  be  applied 
generally  to  the  Church,  to  the  people 
of  God,  of  every  age  and  of  every  de- 
gree. The  import  of  its  expressions  is 
that  conveyed  by  the  version  in  the 
Prayer  Book,  which  makes  them  refer 
to  an  ordinary  and  every-day  danger. 
These  preliminaries  having  been  adjust- 
ed, we  have  to  endeavor  to  follow  out 
the  trains  of  thought  which  may  be 
evolved  from  the  assertion,  that  God 
gives  his  angels  charge  over  the  right- 
eous,  to  bear  them  up  in  their  hands, 
lest  they  hurt  their  foot  against  a  stone. 

Now  the  first  thing  which  strikes  one, 
and  which  we  should  wish  to  set  vividly 
before  you,  is  the  contrast  between  the 
instrumentality  employed,  and  the  busi- 
ness upon  which  it  is  used.  Let  us  look 
a  little  at  what  Scripture  tells  us  of  an- 
gels :  we  may  not  be  able  to  understand 
much  as  to  these  glorious  and  powerful 
beings  ;  for  what  is  purely  spiritual 
evades  our  present  comprehension  ;  but 
we  cannot  fail  to  learn  that  they  are 
creatures  far  transcending  ourselves  in 
mi«*ht  and  intelligence.  They  are  re- 
presented  as  God's  ministers,  executing 
the  orders  of  his  Providence.!  They 
wait  reverently  in  his  presence,  to  re- 
ceive the  intimations  of  his  will,  and 
then  pass,  with  the  speed  of  lightning, 
through  the  universe,  that  they  may  ac- 
complish whatsoever  He  hath  purposed. 
Of  vast  number,  for  "the  chariots  of 
God,"  saitli  the  Psalmist,  "  are  twenty 
thousand,  even  thousands  of  angels," 
they  are  described  in  holy  writ  as  "  crea- 
tures of  wonderful  agility  and  swiftness 
of  motion;  therefore  called  cherubim, 
that  is,  winged  creatures/'  and  sera- 
phim, or  flames  of  lire,  because  of  SO 
strange  a  subtlety  a-;  to  "  penetrate  into 
any  kind  of  bodies,  yea,  insinuate  them- 
selves into,  and  affect,  the  very  inward 
senses  of  men*."  An  angel,  in  and 
through  a  dream  of  the  night,  moved 
Joseph  to  take  the  young  child  and   his 


Bishop  Bui 


ANGELS  OUR  GUARDIANS  IN  TRIFLES. 


75 


mother,  and  return  out  of  Egypt.  In 
like  manner,  an  angel  roused  Peter  from 
his  sleep,  led  him  past  the  keepers,  and 
delivered  him  from  the  dungeon.  That 
tin-;1  angels  are  endowed  with  admira- 
ble  efficacy  and  power,  we  learn  from 
the  invocation  of  David,  "  Bless  the 
Lord,  ye  his  angels,  that  excel  in 
strength,  that  do  his  commandments, 
hearkening  unto  the  voice  of  his  word  ;  " 
and  from  the  fearful  history  of  the  de- 
struction of  the  hosts  of  the  Assyrian, 
when,  in  a  single  night,  and  through  the 
single  agency  of  one  of  these  celestial 
beings,  "  an  hundred  fourscore  and  five 
thousand  "  became  "  all  dead  corpses." 

We  know  also  of  angels,  that,  "  as 
immortal  beings,  they  have  no  principle 
of  corruption  within  themselves  ;  as  un- 
alterable at  least  as  the  pure  heaven 
where  they  dwell,  they  can  never  die  or 
perish  but  by  the  hand  of  Him  that  first 
gave  them  being;"*  for,  speaking  of 
"the  children  of  the  Resmrection," 
Christ  hath  said,  "  Neither  can  they  die 
any  more  :  for  they  are  equal  unto  the 
angels." 

And  if  these  be  only  scattered  and 
passing  intimations  of  the  nature  and 
office  of  holy  angels,  they  are,  at  least, 
sufficient  to  impress  us  with  a  sense  of 
the  greatness  and  gloriousness  of*  these 
invisible  beings  ;  a  sense  which  can  but 
be  confirmed  and  increased,  when  we 
consider  what  fallen  angels  have 
wrought ;  they  being,  according  to  the 
representations  of  Scripture,  the  grand 
antagonists  of*  the  Almighty  Himself, 
and,  though  doomed  to  a  certain  de- 
struction, yet  able,  for  century  after  cen- 
tury, to  keep  the  universe  unhinged  and 
disordered,  not  indeed  to  frustrate  the 
Divine  plans,  but  to  oppose  such  obsta- 
cles to  their  completion  as  nothing  short 
of  Divine  power  could  surmount.  What 
angels  are  that  have  kept  their  first  es- 
tate, we  may  infer  in  a  measure  from 
what  is  done  in  us  and  around  us,  by 
angels  that  have  apostatized  from  God. 

And  when  you  have  duly  considered 
and  collected  what  is  made  known  to 
us  as  to  angels,  it  cannot  fail  but  that 
you  will  have  a  very  lofty  idea  of  these, 
the  principalities  and  powers  of  the  in- 
visible world,  and  that  you  will  expect 
to  find  them  occupied  with  matters  that 


Bishop  Bull. 


shall  seem  worthy  their  stupendous  en- 
dowments. Believing  that  God  will  al- 
ways  proportion  the  means  which  He 
employs  to  the  end  which  He  proposes, 
you  would  conclude  that  the  highest  of 
created  intelligences,  such  as  the  angels 
are  to  be  accounted,  must  be  employed 
only  on  what  is  dazzling  and  magnifi- 
cent, on  the  carrying  out  the  designs  of 
the  Almighty  in  and  through  the  nobler 
combinations  of  cause  and  effect.  And 
it  might  almost  strike  you  as  derogatory 
to  the  dignity  of  angels,  that  they  should 
be  represented  in  Scripture  as  "  minis- 
tering spirits"  to  the  heirs  of  salvation: 
you  might  almost  imagine  it  beneath 
beings  of  endowment  so  far  surpassing 
our  own,  that  it  should  be  a  part,  and, 
as  it  would  seem,  a  main  part  of  their 
office,  to  attend  us  on  our  passage  through 
this  troublesome  world,  and  aid  our  en- 
deavors to  secure  eternal  life. 

Yet  there  is  nothing  more  clearly  laid 
down  in  the  Bible,  than  that  angels  are 
thus  employed  in  waiting  on  the  right- 
eous :  and  when  you  come  to  think  of 
the  worth  of  the  human  soul,  a  worth 
which,  if  you  can  measure  it  by  nothing 
else,  you  may  judge  in  a  degree  by  the 
price  paid  for  its  redemption,  you  will 
probably  cease  to  be  surprised,  that  not 
only  is  there  "joy  in  heaven  over  one 
sinner  that  repenteth,"  but  that  the  ce- 
lestial hosts  marshal  themselves  for  the 
guardianship  of  the  believer,  and  use 
their  vast  power  in  promoting  his  good. 

This,  however,  is  removing  the  appa- 
rent contradiction  to  the  lofty  nature  and 
sublime  endowments  of  angels,  by  mag- 
nifying the  employment,  by  arguing  that 
it  cannot  be  beneath  any  created  intelli- 
gence to  minister  unto  man  for  whom 
God's  Son  hath  died.  But  if,  over  and 
above  the  general  fact  of  angels  being 
ministering  spirits  to  the  heirs  of  salva- 
tion, the  Bible  set  forth  angels  as  doing 
little,  inconsiderable,  things  on  behalf 
of  man,  interfering  where  there  seems 
no  scope  for,  or  no  need  of,  their  vast 
power,  discharging  offices  of  the  most 
trifling  description,  rendering  services 
which  can  hardly  be  observed,  and  be- 
tween which  and  their  ability  there  is 
the  greatest  apparent  disproportion, 
then,  in  all  probability,  your  surprise 
will  return,  and  you  will  again  think  the 
occupation  derogatory  to  the  beings  so 
employed. 

Yet  such  is  the   case  :  the  scriptural 


76 


ANGELS   OUR  GUARDIANS  IN  TRIFLES. 


representation  brings  clown  the  minis- 
tration of  angels  to  what  appears  trivial 
and  insignificant,  in  place  of  confining 
it  to  some  great  crisis  in  the  history  of 
the  righteous.  And  it  is  this  fact  which 
is  so  forcibly  set  before  us  by  our  text. 
For  what  contrast  can  be  greater  ?  We 
direct  you  to  the  examining  whatsoever 
is  told  you  in  the  Bible  as  to  the  nature 
and  endowments  of  angels.  You  cannot 
come  from  such  an  examination  but  with 
minds  fraught  with  a  persuasion  of  the 
greatness  and  gloriousness  of  the  hea- 
venly hosts,  impressed  with  a  sense  of 
the  vastness  of  their  capacities,  the  splen- 
dor of  their  excellence,  the  majesty  of 
their  strength.  And  then  we  set  you  to 
the  considering  what  occupation  can  be 
worthy  of  creatures  thus  pre-eminently 
illustrious  ;  not  allowing  you  indeed  to 
indulge  the  excursions  of  imagination, 
which  might  rapidly  hurry  you  into  the 
invisible  world,  and  there  place  before 
you  the  thrones  and  dominions  of  those 
whom  God  is  pleased  to  honor  as  his 
instruments  in  the  government  of  the 
universe  ;  but  confining  you  to  the  sin- 
gle truth,  that  angels  have  offices  to  per- 
form to  the  Church,  and  that  every  right- 
eous man  is  a  subject  of  their  ministra- 
tions. But,  confined  to  this  single  truth, 
your  minds  will  probably  be  busied  with 
vast  and  magnificent  enterprize :  you 
know  that  there  is  going  on,  amongst 
other  orders  of  being',  a  contest  for  as- 
cendancy  over  man  ;  and  so  soon  there- 
fore as  told  of  good  angels  as  minister- 
ing to  the  heirs  of  salvation,  you  will  be 
likely  to  think  of  the  war  which  they 
wage  with  Satan  and  his  hosts,  and  to 
throw  a  dignity  round  their  ministration 
to  the  meanest  of  Christ's  people,  by 
identifying  it  with  championship  in  that 
portentous  strife,  which,  for  wise  ends, 
God  permits  to  agitate  his  empire. 

But  what  will  you  say,  when  Scrip- 
ture forces  you  away  from  this  battle 
between  the  mighty  powers  of  the  in- 
visible world,  and  obliges  you  to  con- 
template angels  as  engaged  with  occu- 
pations which  the  most  vivid  fancy  ran 
scarce  invest  with  any  thing  of  splendor, 
nay,  can  scarce  perhaps  rescue  from 
what  is  insignificant  and  degrading! 
Oh,  it  were  almost  startling,  after  hear- 
ing of  the  might  and  majesty  of  angels, 
to  hear  of  creatures  so  lofty  as  having 
any  ministrations  to  perform  towards 
ourselves,    children   of  corruption,  and 


crushed  before  the  moth.  But  what 
shall  we  say  when  angels  are  introduced 
as  bearing  up  the  believer  in  their  hands, 
not  that  he  may  be  carried  in  safety  over 
some  vast  ocean,  not  that  he  may  be 
transported  through  hostile  and  mena- 
cing squadrons,  not  that,  when  exposed 
to  some  extraordinary  danger,  he  may 
be  conveyed  to  a  place  of  refuge,  but, 
as  bearing  him  up  in  their  arms,  "  lest 
at  any  time  he  hurt  his  foot  against  a 
stone?" 

Now  we  thus  bring  out  the  great  pe- 
culiarity, and,  at  the  same  time,  the  great 
beauty  of  the  text,  the  contrast  between 
the  instrumentality  which  is  employed, 
and  the  thing  which  is  done.  Angels, 
the  topmost  beings  in  creation,  the  ra- 
diant, the  magnificent,  the  powerful — 
angels  are  represented  as  holding  up  a 
righteous  man,  lest  some  pebble  in  the 
path  should  make  him  trip,  lest  he  hurt 
his  foot  against  a  stone.  But  you  may 
be  sure  that  we  do  not  take  pains  to 
make  you  aware  of  this  contrast  merely 
because  of  its  singularity  or  unexpected- 
ness :  we  would  not  have  drawn  it  out 
as  we  have  done,  and  thus  endeavored 
to  gain  for  it  a  hold  upon  your  minds, 
had  we  not  believed  that  important  truths 
were  to  be  gathered  from  the  assign- 
ment of  what  looks  so  trifling,  the  keep- 
ing a  man  from  hurting  his  foot  against 
a  stone,  to  beings  of  such  transcendant 
glory  and  strength  as  the  Bible,  in  every 
part,  attributes  unto  angels. 

Let  us  now,  therefore,  .see  whether 
there  is  not  much  to  be  gathered,  both 
for  comfort  and  instruction,  from  a  con- 
trast which  has  only  to  be  pointed  out, 
and  it  must  immediately  be  felt  as  every 
way  remarkable.  We  would  not  indeed 
have  it  thought  that  the  contrast  is  the 
solitary  one  of  the  kind,  nor  even  per- 
haps that  it  is  not  exceeded  in  strange- 
ness by  others  which  may  be  observed 
in  the  Bible.  Who  that  thinks  of  the 
greatness  and  stupendousness  of  God, 
and  then  asks  himself  what  can  be  a  fit- 
ting employment  for  God,  does  not  find 
his  mind  turning,  almost  naturally,  to 
stars  and  systems,  whose  stately  move- 
ments have  to  be  ordered  '(  or  to  em- 
pires, whose  rise  and  fall  seem  impor- 
tant enough  for  the  attention  of  the  uni- 
versal Governor?  or,  if  to  individuals  of 
our  race,  yet  to  the  more  eminent  and 
distinguished,  on  whom  commonwealths 
depend,  and  to  these  only  at  some  spe- 


ANGELS   OUR  GUARDIANS   IN  TRIFLES. 


77 


cial  times,  when  nothing  less  than  Divine 
power  can  suffice  for  the  extricating 
them  from  difficulty,  or  the  delivering 
them  from  danger ! 

But  how  different  are  the  representa- 
tions of  Scripture.  "God  shall  wipe 
away  all  tears  from  their  eyes."  God 
the  doer,  the  wiping  away  tears  the 
thino-  done — what  a  contrast  !  what  ap- 
parent disproportion  !  Then  the  pray- 
er of  David,  '"Put  thou  my  tears  into 
thy  bottle  " — what  a  picture  does  it  give 
of  God  !  there  is  something  which  looks 
God-like  in  Isaiah's  delineation,  He 
"  hath  measured   the   waters  in  the  hol- 


alted,  or  too  busily  occupied,  to  concern 

Himself  with  ordinary  things,  is  inter- 
posing and  observing,  really  most  of  us 
might  pass  year  after  year,  proceeding 
from  youth  to  manhood,  and  from  man- 
hood to  old  age,  without  being  able  to 
fix  an  occasion  which  might  justify  our 
supposing  that  the  crisis  had  been 
reached. 

But  the  scriptural  doctrine  of  Divine 
providence  is  altogether  different  from 
what  such  a  limitation  would  srive.  The 
scriptural  doctrine  makes  nothing  too 
little  for  the  care,  as  nothing  too  creat 
for  the  power,  of  God.     The  scriptural 


low  of  his  hand  ;  "  but  putting  our  tears  j  doctrine  sets  God   before  us  as  mindful 


into  his  bottle,  if  we  had  not  found  it  in 
the  Bible,  we  might  not  have  dared  to 
imagine  it.  Thus  again,  "  Thou  wilt 
make  all  his  bed  in  his  sickness," — what 
an  image  of  Deity  !  what  an  occupation 
for  Deity  !  it  is  hardly  possible,  with  the 
mind  fresh  from  the  contemplation  of 
the  unwearied  actings  of  God  amid  the 
awful  grandeurs  of  creation,  to  realize 
the  picture,  yea,  even  to  feel  as  if  there 
were  nothing  unbecoming  or  irreverent 
in  the  picture,  of  God's  making  the  bed 
of  one  of  his  sick  servants. 

The  contrast,  then,  in  our  text  bet  ween 
an  agency  so  mighty  as  that  of  angels, 
and  an  act  so  inconsiderable  as  that  of 
keeping  a  man  from  hurting  his  foot 
against  a  stone,  is  not  the  alone  speci-' 
men  of  the  kind,  but  rather  one  of  a 
number  which  may  all  be  presumed  to 
enforce  the  same  truths.  And  what  we 
would  have  you  observe  of  such  a  con- 
trast, is,  that  it  is  the  very  minuteness, 
the  seeming  insignilicance,  of  the  thing 
done,  which  gives  its  chief  worth  to  the 
promise  in  our  text.  Forwe  doctrine 
of  a  special  Providence  fcs^valuable  in 
proportion  as  we  extend  it  to  what  the 
world  counts  trities,  to  things  of  every- 
day occurrence.  If, you  confine,  as  many 
do,  the  doctrine  ofjGod's  providence  to 
great  events,  supposing  that  it  is  only 
on  some  extraordinary  emergence,  in 
some  unusual  danger  or  difficulty,  that 
God  may  be  .thought  to  give  attention 
to  an  individual  or  a  family,  then  truly 
there  is  but  little  comfort  in  the  doc- 
trine ;  for  life,  with  most  men,  is  but  a 
round  of  petty  things  ;  each  day  is  the 
repetition  of  the  preceding,  the  same 
simple  duties,  the   same  simple  trial 


of  the  fall  of  a  sparrow,  as  well  as  of  the 
decay  of  an  empire ;  as  numbering  the 
hairs  of  our  heads,  as  well  as  the  years 
of  our  lives.  Whether  it  be  through 
his  own  immediate  agency,  or  whether 
He  employ  the  instrumentality  of  his 
creatures,  God  is  represented  in  the 
Bible  as  savin  <r  the  most  accurate  heed, 
the  most  patient  and  observant  attention, 
to  the  every-day  wants  of  the  meanest 
amongst  us  ;  so  that  nothing  happens, 
though  of  the  most  trival  description,  to 
the  most  insignificant  of  our  race, 
save  in  and  through  the  Divine  appoint- 
ment or  permission  ;  and  there  is  not 
the  poor  man,  whom  the  rising  sun 
wakens  to  the  going  forth  to  toil  for  his 
'daily  bread,  who  may  not  as  distinctly 
assure  himself  of  his  carrying  with  him 
to  his  wearisome  task  the  ever-watchful 
guardianship  of  the  Almighty  Maker  of 
the  heavens  and  the  earth,  as  though  he 
were  the  leader  of  armies,  or  the  ruler 
of  nations. 

Blessed  be  God  for  a  truth  such  as 
this.  It  should  go  home  to  every  heart. 
It  cannot  fail  to  go  home,  wheresoever 
a  sense  exists  of  the  uncertainty  of  life, 
of  the  exposure  to  accident,  of  the  wheel 
within  wheel  in  the  most  common-place 
occurrences,  of  that  utter  powerlessness 
of  looking  into  the  future,  and  providing 
for  its  contingencies,  which  attaches 
alike  to  the  wisest  of  us  and  to  the  weak- 
est. We  are  not  only  permitted,  we 
are  commanded,  to  cast  all  our  care  up- 
on God,  and  that,  too,  on  the  very  prin- 
ciple of  his  caring  for  us  ; — all  our  care 
— oh,  that  we  might  learn  to  keep  no 
care  to  ourselves,  to  commit  our  least 
anxieties  to  God,  to  lean  upon  his  assist- 


and  as  to  a  great  crisis,  which  may  war-  |  ance   in  the  performance  of    our  least 
rant  a  belief  that  Deity,  too  highly  ex-  |  duties,  upon  his   strength  in  the  endur- 


78 


ANGELS  OUR  GUARDIANS  IN  TRIFLES. 


ance  of  our  least  trials,  upon  his  com- 
forts for  the  soothing-  of  our  least  sor- 
rows. If  we  would  not  exclude  God 
from  any  thing  little,  we  should  find 
Him  with  us  in  everything  great.  If 
we  thought  nothing  beneath  God,  we 
should  find  nothing  above  Him.  And 
the  beauty,  as  we  have  said,  of  such  pas- 
sages as  our  text,  lies,  not  in  their  en- 
listing  on  man's  side  the  most  magnifi- 
cent instrumentality,  but  in  their  enlist- 
ing it  for  some  apparently  trivial  and 
inconsiderable  purpose.  For  to  tell  me 
of  angels,  the  ministers  whom  God  is 
pleased  to  employ  for  the  carrying  on 
his  providential  operations,  as  appointed 
to  the  attending  my  path  in  certain  great 
emergencies  or  perplexities,  there  would 
comparatively  be  little  or  nothing  of 
comfort  in  this ;  what  I  want  is  an 
every-day  providence.  I  want  a  guard- 
ianship which  will  go  with  me  to  my 
every-day  duties,  which  will  be  around 
me  in  my  every-day  trials,  which  shall 
attend  me  in  the  household,  in  the  street, 
in  my  business,  in  my  prayers,  in  my 
recreations  ;  which  I  may  be  aware  of 
as  watchful  where  there  is  no  apparent 
peril,  and  which  I  may  be  assured  of  as 
sufficient  where  there  is  the  worst. 

And  such  a  guardianship  is  revealed 
to  me,  when  the  hosts  of  heaven  are 
affirmed  to  be  employed  on  the  protect^ 
intj  me  against  the  most  trifling  acci- 
dent.  Oh  !  it  might  not  do  much  to- 
wards  cheering  and  elevating  the  poor 
and  unknown  of  the  flock,  or  towards 
the  daily,  hourly  upholding  of  such  as 
have  higher  places  to  fill,  to  be  told  of 
angels  as  encamping,  as  they  encamped 
about  Elisha,  crowding;  the  mountain 
with  chariots  of  fire  and  horses  of  fire, 
when  the  kino;  of  Svi'ia  sent  a  great 
host  to  take  the  man  of  God.  It  cannot 
be  often,  if  ever,  that  there  is  anything 
parallel  to  this  peril  of  the  prophet. 
But  it  just  brings  the  celestial  armies,  in 
all  their  powerfulness,  into  the  scenes 
of  ordinary  life — in  other  words,  it 
gives  to  the  doctrine  of  a  Divine  provi- 
dence all  that  extensiveness,  that  indi- 
viduality, that  applicability  to  the  most 
inconsiderable  events,  as  well  as  that 
adequacy  to  the  most  important,  which 
we  require,  if  the  doctrine  is  to  be  of 
worth  and  of  efficacy,  at  all  times,  to 
all  ranks,  and  in  all  cases — to  be  told 
that  God  has  commissioned  angels,  the 
mightiest  of  his   creatures,  to  bear  us 


up  in  their  hands,  not  lest  we  fall  over 
a  precipice,  come  beneath  an  avalanche, 
sink  in  a  torrent,  but  lest  at  any  time 
we  hurt  our  foot  against  a  stone. 

We  are  far,  however,  from  being  con- 
tent with  this  view  of  the  passage. 
There  is  indeed  something  that  is  ex- 
quisitely soothing  and  encouraging  in 
the  thought  that  angels,  as  ministering 
spirits,  are  so  mindful  of  us  that  they 
look  to  the  very  pebbles  which  might 
cause  us  to  trip  : — how  can  we  be  other 
than  safe  if  we  do  but  trust  in  the  Lord, 
when  there  is  such  care  for  our  safety 
that  the  highest  of  created  beings  sedu- 
lously remove  the  least  impediments,  or 
watch  that  we  surmount  them  ]  But 
this  proceeds  on  the  supposition  that 
the  hurting  the  foot  against  a  stone  is  a 
trivial  thing.  We  have  spoken  of  the 
contrast  in  the  text  as  though  it  were 
matter  of  surprise,  that  such  an  instru- 
mentality as  that  of  angels  should  be 
employed  to  so  insignificant  an  end  as 
that  of  preventing  the  hurting  the  foot 
against  a  stone.  But  is  it  an  insignifi- 
cant  end  ]  Is  there,  after  all,  any  want 
of  keeping  between  the  agency  and  the 
act,  so  that  there  is  even  the  appearance 
of  angels  being  unworthily  employed, 
employed  on  what  is  beneath  them,  when 
engaged  in  bearing  us  up,  lest  at  any 
time  we  hurt  the  foot  against  a  stone  % 

Nay,  the  hurting  the  foot  against  a 
stone  has  often  laid  the  foundation  of 
fatal  bodily  disease  :  the  injury  which 
seemed  too  trifling  to  be  worth  notice 
has  produced  extreme  sickness,  and 
ended  in  death.  Is  it  different  in  spirit- 
ual respects,  in  regard  of  the  soul,  to 
which  the  promise  in  our  text  must  be 
specially  applied  ?  Not  a  jot.  Or,  if 
there  be  a  difference,  it  is  only  that  the 
peril  to  the  soul  from  a  slight  injury  is 
far  greater  than  that  to  the  body  :  the 
worst  spiritual  diseases  might  commonly 
be  traced  to  inconsiderable  beginnings. 
This,  my  brethren,  is  a  fact  worthy 
your  closest  attention  :  we  want  you 
now  to  argue,  from  angels  beai'ing  us  in 
their  hands,  lest  we  hurt  the  foot  against 
a  stone,  that  the  hurting  the  foot  against 
a  stone  is  no  such  trifle  as  it  seems  ; 
and  we  are  sure  that,  if  you  consider 
awhile,  you  will  admit  that  the  import- 
ance of  the  thing  done  every  way  war- 
rants that  angels  should  be  employed  on 
the  doing  it. 

Let  us  fix  youi4  attention  on  a  case  of 


ANGELS   OUR  GUARDIANS  IN  TRIFLES. 


79 


lamentable  frequency,  that  which  came 
under  the  survey  of  St.  Paul,  when  he 
he  had  to  say  to  members  of  the  Gala- 
tiau  Church,  "  Ye  did  run  well;  who 
did  hinder  you  that  ye  should  not  obey 
the  truth  1  "  There  is  many  a  man  who 
evinces,  for  a  time,  a  stedfast  attention 
to  reliaion,  walking  with  all  care  in  the 
path  of  God's  commandments,  using 
appointed  means  of  grace,  and  avoiding 
occasions  of  sin,  but  who,  after  a  while, 
in  the  expressive  language  of  Scripture, 
leaves  his  first  love,  declines  from  spirit- 
uality, and  is  dead,  though  he  may  yet 
have  a  name  to  live.  But  how  does  it 
commonly  happen  that  such  a  man  falls 
away  from  the  struggle  for  salvation, 
and  mingles  with  the  multitude  that 
walk  the  broad  road  1  Is  it  ordinarily 
through  some  one  powerful  and  undis- 
guised assault  that  he  is  turned  from  the 
faith,  or  over  one  huge  obstacle  that  he 
falls  to  rise  not  again  %  Not  so.  It  is  al- 
most invariably  through  little  things  that 
such  a  man  destroys  his  soul.  He  fails 
to  take  notice  of  little  things,  and  they 
accumulate  into  great.  He  allows  him- 
self in  little  things,  and  they  accumulate 
into  great.  He  allows  himself  in  little 
things,  and  thus  forms  a  strong  habit.  He 
concedes  in  little  things,  and  thus  gradu- 
ally gives  up  much ;  he  relaxes  in  little 
things,  and  thus  in  time  loosens  every 
bond.  Because  it  is  a  little  thing,  he 
counts  it  of  little  moment ;  utterly  for- 
getting that  millions  are  made  up  of  units, 
that  immensity  is  constituted  of  atoms. 
Because  it  is  only  a  stone,  a  pebble, 
against  which  his  foot  strikes,  he  makes 
b>ht  of  the  hindrance ;  not  caring  that 
he  is  contracting  a  habit  of  stumbling, 
or  not  observing,  that,  whenever  he  trips, 
there  must  be  some  dimunition  in  the 
speed  with  which  he  runs  the  way  of 
God's  commandments,  and  that,  how- 
ever slowly,  these  dimunitions  are  cer- 
tainly bringing  him  to  a  stand. 

The  astronomer  tells  us,  that  because 
they  move  in  a  resisting  medium,  which, 
perhaps,  in  a  million  of  years,  destroys 
the  millionth  part  of  their  velocity,  the 
heavenly  bodies  will  at  length  cease  from 
their  mighty  march.  May  not,  then,  the 
theologian  assure  us,  that  little  rough- 
nesses in  the  way,  each  retarding  us, 
though  in  an  imperceptible  degree,  will 
eventually  destroy  the  onward  move- 
ment, however  vigorous  and  direct  it 
may  at  one  time  have  seemed  1     Would 


to  God  that  we  could  persuade  you  of 
the  peril  of  little  offences.  We  are  not 
half  as  much  afraid  of  your  hurting  the 
head  against  a  rock,  as  of  your  hurting 
the  foot  against  a  stone.  There  is  a  sort 
of  continued  attrition,  resulting  from  our 
necessary  intercourse  with  the  world, 
which  of  itself  deadens  the  movements 
of  the  soul  ;  there  is  moreover  a  con- 
tinued temptation  to  yield  in  little  points, 
under  the  notion  of  conciliating  ;  to  in- 
dulge in  little  things,  to  forego  little 
strictnesses,  to  omit  little  duties ;  and 
all  with  the  idea  that  what  looks  so 
slight  cannot  be  of  real  moment.  And 
by  these  littles,  thousands,  tens  of  thou- 
sands, perish.  If  they  do  not  come  ac- 
tually and  openly  to  a  stand,  they  stum- 
ble and  stumble  on,  getting  more  and 
more  careless,  nearer  and  nearer  to  indif- 
ference, lowering  the  Christian  stand- 
ards, suffering  religion  to  be  peeled  away 
by  inches,  persuading  themselves  that 
they  can  spare  without  injury  such  in- 
considerable bits,  and  not  perceiving, 
that  in  stripping  the  bark,  they  stop  the 
sap. 

On  the  other  hand,  men  become  emi- 
nent in  piety  by  giving  heed  to  little 
things  ;  grateful  for  the  smallest  good, 
watchful  over  the  smallest  error,  fearful 
of  the  smallest  sin,  careful  of  the  small- 
est truth.  They  become  great,  through 
counting  nothing  little  but  themselves  ; 
great  in  knowledge,  through  studying 
the  least  sentence,  and  treasuring  the 
least  fragment ;  great  in  faith,  through 
noting  God's  hand  in  little  incidents,  and 
going  to  Him  in  little  sorrows  ;  great  in 
holiness,  through  avoiding  little  faults, 
and  being  exact  in  little  duties.  They 
thought  it  no  trifle  to  strike  the  foot 
against  a  stone,  and  therefore  is  their 
step  so  firm,  and  their  port  so  erect, 
however  rugged  and  difficult  the  path. 
And  are  not  then  angels  worthily  em- 
ployed, when  employed  in  bearing  up 
the  righteous,  "lest  at  any  time  they 
hurt  their  foot  against  a  stone  ]  "  If 
they  are  "  ministering  spirits,"  watchful 
of  whatsoever  may  endanger  our  salva- 
tion, think  not  that  it  must  be  to  things 
which  seem  to  us  great,  that  they  give 
special  heed  ;  they  know  far  better  than 
ourselves,  though  even  we  may  know  it 
well  if  we  will,  that  it  is  the  little  which, 
neglected,  makes  apostates  ;  which,  ob- 
served, makes  apostles. 

Then  turn  henceforward  the  text  to 


80 


ANGELS  OUR  GUARDIANS   IN  TRIFLES. 


good  account,  as  a  warning  against  com- 
mitting small  sins,  a  motive  to  diligence 
in  small  duties.  Learn,  from  what  an- 
gels are  intent  to  do  for  you,  what  you 
should  be  earnest  in  endeavoring  to  do 
for  yourselves.  Those  glorious,  though 
invisible,  beings  bestow  not  their  vigi- 
lance and  carefulness  on  what  is  unwor- 
thy so  lofty  an  instrumentality.  They 
would  not  give  such  earnest  heed  to 
pebbles  in  the  way,  if  it  were  not  that 
pebbles  are  what  men  stumble  over  till 
precipitated  into  perdition,  or  what  they 
mount  upon  till  elevated  into  excellence. 
And  if  it  might  make  you  feel  as  though 
it  were  only  at  some  great  crisis,  under 
some  extraordinary  temptation,  or  con- 
fronted by  more  than  common  enemies, 
that  you  had  need  for  anxiety,  effort, 
and  prayer,  to  be  told  of  angels  as  at- 
tending you  to  ward  off  the  thunderbolt, 
or  chain  the  tempest,  oh,  let  it  teach  you 
how  easy  a  thing  it  is  to  lose  the  soul, 
from  what  insignificant  beginnings  may 
fatal  disease  rise,  with  what  unwearied 
earnestness  you  should  avoid  disobey- 
ing God  in  trifles,  conforming  to  the 
world  in  trifles,  relaxing  in  duty  in  tri- 
fles, to  be  told  that  angels,  creatures  of 
surpassing  splendor  and  might,  are  com- 
missioned to  bear  us  up  in  their  hands, 
not  lest  at  any  time  we  rush  into  the 
lion's  den,  or  fall  from  the  mountain  top, 
but  "  lest  at  any  time  we  hurt  the  foot 
against  a  stone." 

There  is  one  other  remark  which 
ought  to  be  made  on  our  text,  though  it 
may  perhaps  be  involved  in  those  which 
have  already  been  advanced.  We  have 
endeavored  to  show  you,  from  the  vast 
importance  in  religion  of  giving  heed  to 
little  things,  that  is  far  enough  from  be- 
ing  derogatory  to  the  dignity  of  angels, 
that  they  should  be  employed  on  keep- 
ing the  righteous  from  hurting  the  foot 
against  a  stone.  You  cease  to  wonder 
that  such  instrumentalityshould.be  used, 
if  it  be  a  thing  of  such  moment  towards 
which  it  is  directed.  But  you  ought 
further  to  observe,  that  it  must  be  a 
thing,  not  only  of  importance,  but  of  dif- 
ficulty; otherwise,  it  would  hardly  be 
represented  as  engaging,  or  occupying, 
the  ministration  of  angels.  It  can  be  no 
easy  thing,  this  keeping  the  foot  from 
being  hurt  against  a  stone,  seeing  that 
the  highest  of  created  beings  are  com- 
missioned to  effect  it.  Neither  is  it. 
The  difficulty  in  religion  is  the  taking 


up  the  cross  "daily,"  rather  than  the 
taking  it  up  on  some  set  occasion,  and 
under  extraordinary  circumstances. — 
The  serving  God  in  little  things,  the  car- 
rying  religious  principle  into  all  the  de- 
tails of  life,  the  discipline  of  our  tem- 
pers, the  regulation  of  our  speech,  the 
domestic  Christianity,  the  momentary 
sacrifices,  the  secret  and  unobserved 
self-denials;  who,  that  knows  any  thing 
of  the  difficulties  of  piety,  does  not  know 
that  there  is  greater  danger  of  his  failing 
in  these  than  in  trials  of  apparently  far 
higher  cost,  and  harder  endurance  ;  if 
on  no  other  account,  yet  because  the 
very  absence  of  what  looks  important, 
or  arduous,  is  likely  to  throw  him  off 
his  guard,  make  him  careless  or  confi- 
dent, and  thereby  almost  insure  defect 
or  defeat  % 

It  is  not,  comparatively,  hard  to  put 
the  armor  on  when  the  trumpet  sounds  ; 
but  it  is,  to  keep  the  armor  on  when 
there  is  no  alarm  of  battle.  I  am  not 
likely  to  forget  my  need  of  Divine  grace, 
and  to  fail  to  seek  it  by  diligent  prayer, 
when  I  am  summoned  to  some  unusual 
duty,  or  menaced  with  some  unusual 
danger;  but  it  is  only  too  probable  that 
I  may  lapse  into  formality,  or  forget  my 
own  insufficiency,  when  there  is  simply 
what  is  of  every-day  occurrence  to  be 
either  done  or  endured.  He  who  would 
not  think  of  climbing  a  mountain  in  his 
own  strength,  may  think  of  passing  over 
a  stone.  If  he  feel  that  he  must  be  borne 
up  by  angels  for  the  one,  he  may  fancy 
that  he  needs  no  such  help  for  the  other. 
And,  in  religion,  things  are  difficult,  not 
so  much  from  what  they  are  in  them- 
selves, as  from  the  likelihood  of  their 
being  attempted  in  a  self-sufficient  tem- 
per. That,  after  all,  is  the  most  ardu- 
ous duty,  which  involves  the  most  temp- 
tation to  our  undertaking  it  without 
prayer.  At  least,  the  duty  in  which 
there  is  the  greatest  probability  of  fail- 
ure, is  that  in  which  there  is  the  greatest 
probability  of  our  making  sure  of  suc- 
cess. The  chief  danger  is  surely  not 
that,  which,  being  palpable  and  mena- 
cing, puts  us  on  our  guard,  and  makes 
us  array  our  defence ;  but  rather  that, 
which,  beine:  subtle  and  unobtrusive,  is 
likely  to  be  neglected,  or  met  without 
due  preparation. 

Understand,  therefore,  and  remember 
that  there  is  great  difficulty  in  little 
things.     Not  without  reason  are  angels 


THE  APPEARANCE  OF  FAILURE. 


81 


represented  as  ministering  to  us  in  little 
things:  supernatural  assistance  is  need- 
ful for  little  things  ;  I  do  not  say,  more 
so  than  for  STreat:  but  the  want  of  it  is 
less  likely  to  be  felt ;  and  in  proportion 
as  the  want  is  less  felt,  the  supply  is  less 
likely  to  be  sought ;  and  the  stone  will 
be  a  worse  stumbling-block  to  the  man 
who  is  not  committing  his  way  unto  the 
Lord,  than  the  rock  to  another  whose 
every  step  is  with  prayer.  Remember 
that  daily  duties  and  dangers,  the  little 
unevennesses  which  may  ruffle  a  tem- 
per, the  petty  anxieties  of  common  life, 


the  exercises  of  Christian  principles  in 
trifles,  these  are  what  may  be  likened 
to  pebbles  in  the  path.  But  make  not 
light  of  them  because  they  are  as  peb- 
bles. Ask  daily  grace  as  you  ask  daily 
bread.  Attempt  not  the  least  thing  in 
your  own  strength.  And  let  it  assure 
you  of  the  difficulty  of  what  is  little,  and 
of  your  consequent  need,  in  what  is  lit- 
tle, of  the  might  of  the  Lord,  that  angels, 
the  highest  created  agencies,  have  the 
office  assigned  them  of  bearing  up  the 
righteous,  "  lest  at  any  time  they  hurt 
their  foot  against  a  stone." 


S  E  R  M  O  N    X. 


THE  APPEARANCE  OF  FAILURE. 


■  Let  us  therefore  fear,  lest,  a  promise  being  left  us  of  entering  into  his  rest,  any  of  you  should  seem  to  come  short 

of  it" — Hebrews  iv.  1. 


It  is  a  great  principle  under  the  Chris- 
tian dispensation,  that  "none  of  us  liveth 
to  himself,  and  no  man  dieth  to  himself." 
We  are  "  members  one  of  another,"  so 
associated  by  intimate  and  indissoluble 
ties,  that  we  ought  never  to  consider  our 
actions  as  having  a  bearing  only  on  our- 
selves ;  we  should  rather  regard  them 
as  likely  to  affect  numbers,  and  sure  to 
affect  some,  of  our  fellow  men,  to  affect 
them  in  their  eternal  interests,  and  not 
only  in  their  temporal. 

It  would  seem  to  be  upon  this  princi- 
ple that  St.  Paul  exhorts  Timothy  not 
to  be  "  partaker  of  other  men's  sins." 
The  setting  a  bad  example,  to  say  no- 
thing of  the  giving  bad  advice,  makes 
us  "  partakers  of  other  men's  sins  :  " 
other  men  may  take  lessons,  or  be  en- 
couraged in  sinning,  from  observing  what 
we  do  ;  and  thus  may  we  virtually  sin 
in  other  persons,  as  well  as  in  our  own  ; 
yea,  sin  after  death  as  well  as  through 


life,  leaving:  successors  behind  us  whose 
sins  may,  in  great  measure,  and  with  tho* 
rough  justice,  be  charged  upon  us  no 
less  than  on  themselves. 

It  is  upon  the  same  principle  that  we 
are  required  in  Scripture  to  consider 
what  may  be  expedient,  as  well  as  what 
may  be  lawful.  There  may  be  many 
things  which  our  Christian  liberty  per- 
mits us  to  do  as  individuals,  but  from 
which  Christian  expediency  requires  us 
to  abstain,  as  members  of  a  Christian 
society.  Thus  St.  Paul  declares  that,  if 
meat  made  his  brother  to  offend,  he 
would  eat  no  meat  whilst  the  world 
stood,  lest  he  should  make  his  brother 
to  offend.  The  apostle  well  understood 
the  liberty  procured  for  him  by  Christ : 
he  says  distinctly,  "  I  know,  and  am 
persuaded  by  the  Lord  Jesus,  that  there 
is  nothing  unclean  of  itself."  But, 
whilst  certified  that  "  all  things  Mere 
lawful  for  him,"  he  was   certified  also 

11 


82 


THE  APPEARANCE  OF  FAILURE. 


that  "  all  things  were  not  expedient  :  " 
he  felt  himself  bound  to  consult  for  the 
good  of  those  weaker  brethren,  who, 
not  equally  enlightened  with  himself, 
might  have  been  staggered  by  his  do- 
ing things  which  they  were  not  them- 
selves prepared  to  do ;  and  whilst,  had 
he  been  isolated  and  alone,  he  could 
have  partaken,  with  a  good  conscience, 
indifferently  of  all  kinds  of  food,  he 
deemed  it  right,  out  of  regard  to  the 
scruples  of  others,  to  put  restraints  upon 
his  liberty,  and  to  deny  himself  rather 
than  place  a  stumbling-block  in  the  way 
of  the  weak. 

We  have  again  the  same  principle, 
the  principle   that  membership  should 
influence  actions,  involved  in   a  precept 
of  St.  Paul  to  the  Thessalonians,  "  Ab- 
stain   from     all     appearance    of    evil." 
There  is  not  necessarily  evil,   whereso- 
ever there  is  the  "  appearance  of  evil ;  " 
just  as  it  were  wrong  to  conclude  that 
all  which  looks  good  is  good.     Yet  the 
apostle  requires  us  to  abstain  from  the 
"  appearance  of  evil,"  as   well   as  from 
evil  itself.     Is  this  for  our  own  sake  1  is 
it  not  also,  if  not  altogether,  for  the  sake 
of  others  ?     No  doubt  our  own  interest 
is    concerned    in    the    abstaining    from 
the  "  appearance  of  evil,"  forasmuch  as 
there  is  always  great  clanger  in  approach- 
ing the  limits  of  what   is  lawful :  they 
who  go   as  near  sinning   as  they  dare, 
often  go  much  nearer  than  they   sup- 
pose :  the  boundary  between   a  virtue 
and  its  opposite  vice  is  often  shaded  off 
so  gradually,  that  the  nicest  discrimina- 
tion would  be  puzzled  to  ascertain  where 
the  one  terminates  and  the  other  begins  ; 
so  that,  if  we  venture  into  the  misty  re- 
gion, in  place  of  remaining  where  there 
is  no  obscurity  or  debate,  no  wonder  if 
we     transgress      some     commandment 
which,  all  the  while,  we  may  believe  that 
we  keep.     Whei'ever  there  is  certainly 
the    "  appearance    of  evil,"    and    it    is 
doubtful  whether  there  is  not  also  evil 
itself,  we   seem  bound  by  the   laws  of 
Christian  prudence,  and  out  of  due  re- 
gard to  our  own  spiritual  safety,  to  act 
on  the  doubt,  and   abstain  from  the  ac- 
tion.    The  soul  ought  never  to  be  peril- 
led on  a  chance  ;  and  he  who  loves  God 
in  sincerity,  will  always  prefer  the  de- 
nying himself  where  he  might  perhaps 
have  lawfully  indulged,  to  the  indulging 
himself  where  he  ought  perhaps  to  have 
denied. 


Hence  there  is  wide  scope  for  the 
precept  of  abstaining  from  "  all  appear- 
ance of  evil,"  supposing  it  to  have  re- 
spect to  ourselves  alone,  and  our  indi- 
vidual interests.  Yet,  nevertheless,  the 
chief  bearing  of  the  injunction  is  pro- 
bably on  the  interests  of  those  with 
whom  we  are  associated.  Even  if  we 
are  quite  satisfied  that  there  is  only  the 
"  appearance  of  evil,"  and  no  evil  itself, 
the  precept,  you  see,  requires  our  absti- 
nence :  when  we  could  do  the  thin  or 
with  a  good  conscience,  without  the 
least  misgiving-  as  to  its  being  thorough- 
ly  lawful,  notwithstanding  any  aspect  to 
the  contrary,  we  are  still  warned  back 
from  the  action  ;  and  this  must  be  be- 
cause the  action  would  be  likely  to  give 
offence  to  oLhers,  who  are  not  so  clear- 
sighted as  ourselves,  might  be  unable  to 
distinguish  between  the  "  appearance  of 
evil  "  and  evil  itself.  What  has  only 
the  appearance  to  me,  may  have  more 
than  the  appearance  to  another;  and  I 
am  as  much  bound  to  take  care  that  I 
wound  not  the  conscience  of  one  weaker 
than  myself,  as  that  I  do  no  violence  to 
the  dictates  of  mine  own. 

There  is  something  of  a  fine  sound 
in  advice  which  is  often  given,  "  Do 
what  you  know  to  be  right,  and  care  not 
what  others  may  think  ;"  but,  after  all, 
it  is  not  universally,  nor  perhaps  even 
generally,  good  and  Chi-istian  advice. 
A  Christian  should  consider  the  opinion 
of  his  fellow  Christians :  a  Christian 
should  have  regard  to  the  scruples  of 
his  fellow  Christians  :  indeed  he  should 
do,  without  hesitation,  whatsoever  he 
feels  to  be  right,  if  it  be  what  God's 
law  positively  requires  ;  all  consequen- 
ces are  to  be  dared,  rather  than  that 
God  be  disobeyed  ;  but  it  ought  not  to 
be  every  thing  to  him  that  his  own  con- 
science approves,  and  nothing  that  the 
consciences  of  others  may  be  grieved. 

And  thus  does  it  follow,  from  various 
passages  of  Scripture,  that  Christians 
are  so  bound  up  the  one  with  the  other, 
and  their  interests  so  interwoven,  that 
each  should  consider  himself  as  acting 
for  a  multitude,  and  the  individual  al- 
ways calculate  with  regard  to  the 
Church.  Ask  then  yourselves,  whether, 
as  Christians,  you  are  striving  to  act  on 
the  maxim  of  the  apostle,  "  Look  not 
every  man  on  his  own  things,  but  every 
man  also  on  the  things  of  others." 

Be  not  engrossed  with  securing  your 


THE  APPEARANCE  OF  FAILURE. 


83 


own  salvation ;  see  to  it  that  ye  be  not, 
at  the  same  time,  endangering  the  sal- 
vation of  others.  For  be  ye  well  assur- 
ed that  true  piety  is  an  enlarged  and  en- 
larging thing- :  it  holds  no  terms  with  sel- 
fishness,  but  always  deals  with  it  as  with 
an  antagonist,  who  must  destroy  or  be 
destroyed.  If  it  be  one  great  test  of  the 
genuineness  of  religion,  Do  I  have  re- 
spect to  the  good  of  my  soul  in  the  va- 
rious plans  and  arrangements  of  life  1 
depend  upon  it  that  it  is  not  the  less  an 
accurate  criterion  by  which  to  try  the 
spiritual  state,  Do  I  think  of  what  will 
do  good  to  the  souls  of  others  'I  do  I 
aim  at  so  living  that  others  may  be  in- 
fluenced to  the  obeying  the  Gospel  % 

Now  you  will  presently  see  why  we 
have  introduced  our  discourse  with 
these  remarks  on  Christians  as  being 
members  one  of  another,  and  therefore 
bound  to  have  respect,  in  all  their  ac- 
tions, to  the  possible  effects  on  their  fel- 
low Christians  as  well  as  on  themselves. 
In  the  chapter  preceding  that  which  is 
opened  by  our  text,  St.  Paul  had  been 
speaking  of  those  Israelites,  who  though 
delivered  by  Moses  from  Egypt,  never 
reached  the  promised  land,  but  perished, 
through  unbelief,  in  the  wilderness. 
From  this  the  apostle  took  occasion  to 
w.arn  Christians,  that  they  might  have 
made  some  progi'ess  towards  Heaven, 
and  still  be  in  danger  of  missing  its 
possession.  They  were  to  regard  the 
case  of  the  Israelites  as  but  too  possible 
an  illustration  of  what  might  be  their 
own  :  delivered  from  bondage,  brought 
into  the  right  way,  and'  privileged  with 
heavenly  guidance,  they  might  yet, 
through  yielding  to  unbelief,  come  short 
of  that  glorious  land  whereof  the  Gos- 
pel had  conveyed  to  them  the  promise. 

And  if  this  had  been  the  whole  tenor 
of  our  text,  it  would  have  afforded  but 
little  place  for  commentary,  though  much 
for  private  and  personal  meditation. 
Had  the  apostle  exhorted  Christians  to 
fear  lest  any  of  them  should  come  short 
of  the  promised  rest,  the  exhortation, 
however  valuable  and  important,  would 
hardly  have  required  the  being  illustra- 
ted or  explained ;  the  preacher's  only 
business  would  have  been  the  impress- 
ing it  in  its  simplicity  and  power  on  his 
hearers,  and  the  endeavoring  to  prevail 
on  them  to  examine  the  grounds  on 
which  they  might  be  hoping  for  admis- 
sion into  heaven.     But  you  will  observe 


that  St.  Paul  does  not  speak  of  "  coming 
short,"  but  of  "  seeming  to  come  short," 
"  lest  any  of  you  should  seem  to  come 
short  of  it."  We  lay  the  emphasis  on 
the  word  "  seem,"  thinking  that  the 
stress  of  the  passage  is  here;  just  as, 
in  the  precept  on  which  we  before 
spoke,  "Abstain  from  all  appearance  of 
evil,"  the  warning  is  against  that  which 
"seems"  to  be  evil;  it  necessarily  in- 
cludes whatsoever  both  is,  and  appears 
to  be,  evil,  but  it  includes  also  much 
which  only  appears  to  be,  without  actu- 
ally being. 

In  like  manner,  the  seeming  to  come 
short,  and  the  actually  coming  short,  are 
not  necessarily  the  same  ;  a  man  may 
have  the  appearance  of  failure,  and 
nevertheless  be  successful.  He  "  seems 
to  come  short "  of  the  promised  rest, 
who,  in  the  judgment  of  his  fellow-men, 
is  deficient  in  those  outward  evidences 
by  which  they  are  wont  to  try  the  genu- 
ineness of  religion.  But  surely,  all  the 
while,  he  may  not  actually  "  come 
short :  "  human  judgment  is  fallible, 
and  can  in  no  case  be  guided  by  inspect- 
ing the  heart,  which  alone  can  funiish 
grounds  for  certain  decision  ;  and,  doubt- 
less, many  may  be  found  in  heaven  at 
last,  of  whose  entrance  thither  survivors 
could  entertain  nothing  more  than  a 
charitable  hope.  And  is  it  not  enough, 
if  we  do  not  "  come  short  ]  "  why  should 
we  further  concern  ourselves  as  to  the 
not  "  seeming  to  come  short  1 "  We 
might  answer,  as  we  did  in  regard  of 
the  "  appearance  of  evil,"  that  it  is  a 
dangerous  thing  to  approach  danger. 
He  who  "  seems  to  come  short  "  must 
almost  necessarily  be  in  some  peril  of 
failure  ;  and  where  heaven  is  at  stake, 
no  wise  man,  if  he  could  help  it,  would 
run  the  least  risk.  Besides,  it  can  hard- 
ly be  that  he,  who  seems  to  others  to 
come  short,  should  possess  decisive  and 
scriptural  evidences  of  his  acceptance 
with  God.  He  may  indeed  know  him- 
self better  than  others  know  him  ;  nei- 
ther is  he  at  all  bound  to  accept  their 
judgment  as  determining  his  state  ;  but 
still,  as  others  decide  from  external  evi- 
dence, and  such  evidence  is  of  more 
weight  than  any  internal  persuasion,  it 
is  difficult  to  see  how  he,  who  seems  to 
others  to  come  short,  as  not  letting  his 
light  shine  brightly  before  men,  can  have 
a  well-founded  hope  that  he  is  not  coming 
short,  but  is    daily  pressing  "  towards 


84 


THE  APPEARANCE  OF  FAILURE. 


the  mark  for  the  prize  of  his  high  call- 
in<r  in  Christ."  And  if  it  he  a  necessa- 
ry result  of  our  seeming  to  others  to 
come  short,  that  we  have  but  feeble  and 
darkened  evidences  of  our  being  made 
meet  for  the  kingdom,  indeed  there  is 
abundant  cause  for  the  fear  expressed 
in  the  text  :  he  who  can  be  content  to 
remain  in  doubt  when  he  might  have 
strong  hojie,  almost  shows,  by  not  long- 
in<y  and  striving  for  clearer  proof,  that 
what  he  already  has  is  deceitful  and 
vain. 

But  whilst  there  may  thus  be  many 
reasons  given  why  we  should  fear  the 
seeming  to  come  short,  even  were  our 
personal  well-being  alone  to  be  consid- 
ered, the  full  force  of  the  text,  as  with 
that  which  enjoins  abstinence  from  the 
appearance  of  evil,  is  only  to  be  brought 
out  through  reference  to  our  being 
members  the  one  of  the  other.  We  shall, 
therefore,  take  the  passage  under  this 
point  of  view  through  the  remainder  of 
our  discourse.  In  other  woi'ds,  we  will 
examine  what  there  is,  in  an  appearance 
of  failure,  to  do  injury  to  the  cause  of 
Christianity,  and  therefore  to  justify  the 
apostle  in  so  emphatically  calling  upon 
you  to  fear,  "  lest,  a  promise  being  left 
us  of  entering  into  his  rest,  any  of  you 
should  seem  to  come  short  of  it.  " 

Now  as  there  are  undoubtedly  many 
ways  in  which  we  may  actually  come 
short,  so  must  there  be  many  in  which 
we  may  apparently  come  short :  who 
can  tell  up  the  methods  in  which  the 
soul  may  be  lost  1  neither  can  any  one 
enumerate  those  in  which  it  may  seem 
to  be  lost.  But  we  may  fix  on  certain 
of  the  more  prominent  appearances  of 
failure,  or,  rather,  on  certain  of  the  more 
prominent  reasons  which  may  give  others 
the  impression  that  a  Christian  comes 
short ;  and  when  these  shall  have  been 
fairly  discussed  and  followed  out,  the 
general  subject  under  review  will  have 
been  so  far  made  clear,  that  every  one 
may  apprehend   any  particular  case. 

And  it  must,  we  think,  commend  it- 
self to  you  in  the  first  place,  that  none 
will  more  "  seem  to  come  short,"  than 
those  whose  practice  is  in  any  way  in- 
consistent with  their  profession,  so  that 
lookers-on  can  decide  that  their  conduct 
is  not  strictly  accordant  with  the  princi- 
ples by  which  they  declare  themselves 
actuated.  This  is  the  first  great  case  on 
which  we  would  fasten.     We  are  far 


from  presuming  to  determine  the  amount 
of  inconsistency  which  might  be  taken 
in  proof  of  an  actual  coming  short  of  the 
promised  inheritance ;  for  we  remem- 
ber, that,  whilst  perfection  is  that  at 
which  the  Christian  is  to  aim,  it  is  that 
which,  in  this  life,  he  may  not  hope  to 
reach  ;  and  compassed  as  he  is,  and 
must  be,  with  infirmity,  he  will  often  be 
betrayed  into  sin,  notwithstanding  that 
he  hates  it,  and  that  his  heart,  on  the 
whole,  is  right  with  his  God. 

But  we  are  not  now  concerned  with 
the  actual,  but  only  with  the  apparent 
coming  short ;  and  it  must  be  clear  that 
every  inconsistency  helps  to  the  making 
us    "  seem  to    come    short,"    however, 
through  the  being  repented  of  and  re- 
paired through  the  grace  of  God,  it  may 
leave   undamaged   our  spiritual    estate. 
He  who  professes  to  "  walk  in  the  light 
as  God  is  in  the  light,"  may  occasionally 
wander  into  dark  paths,  and  yet  be  mer- 
cifully restored ;  but  it  can  hardly  fail 
but  that  the   impression    produced    on 
observers,    especially    on    men    of    the 
Avorld,  will  be  one   as  to  the  weakness 
of  his  principles,  or  a  want  of  power  in 
that  religion  which  professes  itself  ade- 
quate to  the  renewing  the  world.     And 
who  will  pretend  to  compute  the  amount 
of  damage  done    to   the   cause  of  vital 
Christianity  by  the    inconsistencies    of 
those  who  profess  themselves  subjected 
to  its  laws,  and  animated  by  its  hopes  ? 
The  heathen  has  adhered  to  his  idols, 
because  he  can  point  to  many  who  would 
invite  him  to  a  purer  worship,  but  ex- 
hibit not  a  purer  morality.  The  nominal 
Chz-istian  has  been  strengthened  in  his 
dislike  and  ridicule  of  piety  of  the  heart, 
through  observing  that  those  supposed 
to  possess  it,  could  be  fretful,  malicious, 
covetous,  or  envious  ;  to  say  nothing  of 
more  flagrant  departures  from  conform- 
ity to  the  revealed  will  of  God.     It  was, 
as  you  will  remember,  on  such  account  as 
this,  that,  even  when  God  extended  for- 
giveness to  David,  who  had  grievously 
sinned,  He  inflicted  also  severe  punish- 
ment,— "because  by  this  deed  thou  hast 
given  great  occasion  to  the  enemies  of 
the  Lord  to  blaspheme,  the  child  also 
that  is  born  unto  thee  shall  surely  die." 
David  did  not  actually  "  come  short"  of 
the  promised  inheritance,  through  sin- 
ning so  heinously  against  the  Lord  ;  but 
David  "  seemed   to    come    short ;  "  he 
would  have  come  short,  had  not  genuine 


THE  APPEARANCE  OF  FAILURE. 


85 


repentance  followed  on  grievous  trans- 
gression ;  but  there  was,  at  least,  all  the 
appearance  of  thorough  apostasy  :  and 
this  appearance  gave  such  occasion  of 
blasphemy,  ilr.it,  in  vindication  of  the 
righteousness  of  his  government,  God 
had  to  inflict  judgment  at  the  same  time 
that  lie  "ranted  pardon. 

But  if  flagrant  acts,  like  those  of  Da- 
vid, were  thus  fruitful  sources  of  blas- 
phemy to  the  enemies  of  the  Lord,  no 
doubt  acts  of  lesser  criminality,  the 
manifestations  of  undisciplined  tempers, 
the  utterances  of  unguarded  speech,  the 
inordinate  indulgences  of  appetite,  the 
adherences  of  the  affections  to  perish- 
able things,  all  work  their  measure  of 
effect  upon  men  who  are  on  the  watch 
for  some  charge  against  the  Gospel,  or 
for  some  excuse  for  resisting  its  claims  ; 
and  also  upon  others  who  may  be  halt- 
ing "  between  two  opinions,  "  at  a  loss 
whether  to  decide  for  God,  or  for  the 
world.  It  is  the  place  of  a  Christian  to 
be  as  a  city  set  on  a  hill  ;  but  "  a  city 
that  is  set  on  a  hill  cannot  be  hid ;  "  and 
he  may  be  quite  sure,  from  the  very 
position  into  which  a  religious  profes- 
sion brings  him,  that  his  every  depart- 
ure from  the  high  standards  of  the  Gos- 
pel, his  every  failure  in  the  rigid  sub- 
jection of  himself  to  the  law  of  God,  as 
expanded  and  expounded  by  Christ, 
will  serve  in  some  way  to  do  injury  to 
others  as  well  as  to  himself,  producing 
an  impression  unfavorable  to  the  worth 
and  power  of  piety,  whether  in  such  as 
are  glad  to  bring  godliness  into  contempt, 
or  in  others  who  seek  to  be  assured 
that  Christianity  can  make  good  its  pro- 
fessions and  promises. 

How  vast,  then,  the  importance  of 
not  even  "  seeming  to  come  short  !  " 
Woo  will  think  it  enough  if  he  do  not 
actually  come  short,  and  pass  by  the  ap- 
pearance as  a  thing  of  no  moment  1 
What,  when  he  "  seems  to  come  short," 
in  whose  life  are  inconsistencies,  con- 
tradictions, failures  in  obedience,  and 
the  like,  which,  if  truly  repented  of, 
will  not  indeed  prevent  the  final  en- 
trance into  Heaven,  but  which  are  al- 
most sure  to  be  impediments  in  the  way 
of  many  others,  if  not  instrumental  to 
their  utter  exclusion  1  Is  this  nothing? 
is  this  little  '{  nothing,  to  bring  reproach 
on  the  Gospel  1  little,  to  excite  preju- 
dice which  may  keep  men  from  Christ  1 
Oh,  if  you  do   but  think  that  errors  and 


deviations,  of  which  you  are,  through 
Divine  grace,  enabled  yourselves  to 
escape  the  everlasting  penalties,  may 
confirm  opponents  in  their  oppositions, 
and  wanderers  in  their  wanderings ; 
and  that  thus,  what  is  in  you  but  the  ap- 
pearance of  missing  heaven,  may  help 
to  the  actually  bringing  others  to  eternal 
perdition ;  it  cannot  be  that  bencefor- 
wards  you  will  care  only  for  what  is,  and 
nothing  for  what  may  seem  to  be,  your 
state;  you  will  enter  fully  and  practically 
into  the  fear  expressed  by  the  Apostle, 
"  lest,  a  promise  being  left  us  of  entering 
into  his  rest,  any  of  you  should  seem 
to  come  short  of  it." 

But  there  is  another,  if  a  less   obvious 
mode  of  "  seeming  to  come  short."     It 
should  be    observed,    that,    though  the 
Apostle,  when  speaking  of  rest,  must  be 
considered   as   referring  mainly  to  that 
rest  which  is  future,  there  is  a  degree, 
or  kind,  of  present  rest  which  is  attain- 
able by  the  Christain,  and  which  is  both 
the  type  and  foretaste   of  that  which  is 
to    come.     Thus    St.  Paul,  in    a    verse 
which    follows  almost   immediately    on 
our  text,  says  of  Christians,  "  We  which 
have  believed  do  enter  into  rest ; "  and 
afterwards,    "  He   that  is   entered    into 
his   rest,  he   also  hath  ceased  from  his 
own  works,  as  God  did  from  his,"  evi- 
dently making  the  entering  into  rest,  a 
present  thing,  as  well  as  a  future.  And 
undoubtedly,  if  he   lived  up  to  his  pri- 
vileges,  there   is   a  present  rest   which 
the  Christian  might  enjoy.     Our  blessed 
Savior  bequeathed  peace,  his  own  peace, 
as   a  legacy   to   his  Church  ;   and  what 
Christ  entailed  on  us,  may  surely  be  en- 
joyed by  us.    Without  dwelling  on  what 
is  popularly  called  the  doctrine  of  per- 
sonal election,   and   which,  even  if  we 
were    to    allow    it    to    be  a  thoi-oughly 
Scriptural  doctrine,  can  give  well-found- 
ed  comfort  to  no  one,  except  so  far  as 
he  is  usin<?  "  all   diligence  to  make  his 
calling  and  election  sure,"  we  may  cer- 
tainly say  that  he  who  is  meekly  endea- 
voring to  obey  God's  will,  and  humbly 
relying   on  the  merit  and  mediation  of 
Christ,  ought  to  be  so  hopeful  of  final 
salvation  as  to  present  a  happy  deport- 
ment, in  the  midst  even  of  many  trials, 
and    in    spite  even    of  many    enemies. 
That  fears   will  sometimes  harass,  and 
doubts   cloud  his  mind,  this  is  perhaps 
unavoidable  ;  many  are  constitutionally 
timid  and  mistrustful :  and  it  is  not  as 


86 


THE  APPEARANCE  OF  FAILURE. 


much  observed  as  it  ought  to  be,  that 
conversion  does  not  profess  to  alter  the 
nervous  system,  and  that  this  system 
will  produce  symptoms  which  are  often 
anxiously  submitted  to  the  spiritual  ad- 
viser, when  they  really  come  more  pro- 
perly within  the  province  of  the  medical. 

But  when  every  just  allowance  has 
been  made  for  constitution  and  circum- 
stances, it  may  safely  be  affirmed  that 
the  general  deportment  of  the  believer 
should  be  that  of  serenity  and  hopeful- 
ness, the  deportment  of  one  who  has 
already  entered  into  rest,  though  not 
that  perfect  rest  which  yet  "  remaineth 
for  the  people  of  God."  The  reli- 
gion of  the  Bible  is  a  cheerful,  happy- 
making  religion :  the  very  word 
"  Gospel  "  signifies  "glad tidings;  "  and 
he  who  has  received  good  news  into  his 
heart,  may  justly  be  expected  to  exhibit 
in  his  demeanor,  if  not  much  of  the  rap- 
ture of  joy,  yet  something  of  the  quiet- 
ness of  peace.  But  it  is  in  this  that 
righteous  persons  are  often  grievously 
deficient;  nay,  they  perhaps  even  think 
that  it  becomes  them  to  go  always 
mourning,  and  that,  sinful  as  they  are, 
it  were  worse  than  presumption  in  them 
ever  to  be  cheerful.  Hence,  in  place  of 
struggling  with  doubts,  and  endeavoring 
to  extinguish  or  eject  them,  they  may 
be  said  actually  to  encourage  them,  as 
if  they  befitted  their  state,  "and  either 
betokened,  or  cherished,  humility.  A 
great  mistake  this.  There  is  commonly 
more  of  pride  than  of  humility  in  doubts  ; 
he  who  is  always  doubting  is  generally 
searching  in  himself  for  some  ground  or 
reason  of  assurance ;  whereas,  true, 
genuine  humility,  looks  wholly  out  of 
self,  not  as  forgetting  the  corruption 
which  is  there,  but  as  fastening  on  the 
sufficiency  which  is  in  Christ. 

But,  without  dissecting  more  narrow- 
ly the  character  of  the  always  doubting 
Christian,  we  cannot  hesitate  to  say  of 
him,  that  he  is  one  of  those  who  "  seem 
to  come  short."  If  a  present,  as  well  as 
a  future  rest,  be  promised  to  the  righ- 
teous— and  what  else  can  be  denoted  by 
such  words  as  these,  "  Thou  wilt  keep 
him  in  perfect  peace  whose  mind  is 
stayed  on  thee  ?  " — certainly  he,  at  least, 
"  seems  to  come  short  "  of  that  rest, 
who  is  continually  the  prey  of  fear  and 
disquietude,  who  has  never  any  thing  to 
express  but  apprehensions  as  to  his  de- 
ceiving  himself,  or   who   wears  always 


the  appearance  of  one  ill  at  ease  in  re- 
gard of  his  spiritual  interests.  And 
without  denying  that  there  may  be  tho- 
rough safety  where  there  is  all  this 
seeming  insecurity,  we  are  bound  to  de- 
clare, that,  so  far  as  others  are  concern- 
ed, the  Christian,  who  thus  "  seems  to 
come  short,"  is  the  cause  of  great  injury. 
He  presents  religion  under  a  false  as- 
pect :  like  one  of  the  spies  of  old,  he 
brings  the  promised  land  into  disrepute, 
and  discourages  those  whose  business  it 
is  to  go  up  and  possess  it.  The  world 
is  disposed  enough  to  give  a  morose  and 
gloomy  character  to  godliness,  represent- 
ing it  as  the  opponent  of  all  cheerful- 
ness, and  as  requiring  that  we  surrender 
whatsoever  can  minister  to  happiness. 
We  tell  the  world,  in  reply,  that  it  does 
thus  but  libel  our  faith  ;  that  there  is 
nothing  deserving  the  name  of  happi- 
ness, save  with  those  who  have  devoted 
themselves  to  the  service  of  Christ ;  and 
we  challenge  its  attractions  and  entice- 
ments  to  put  themselves,  if  they  can, 
even  into  a  present  competition  with 
that  "  peace  of  God  which  passeth  all 
understanding." 

But  what  are  we  to  say  to  the  world, 
when  its  appeal  lies  from  assertions  to 
facts  1  when  it  can  point  out  religious 
persons  as  always  melancholy  and  de- 
sponding ']  Why  quote  to  us,  the  world 
will  urge,  the  exquisitely  beautiful  words, 
"  Come  unto  me,  ye  that  are  weary  and 
heavy  laden,  and  1  will  give  you  rest," 
when  so  many,  who  are  looking  only  to 
Jesus  for  rest,  must,  at  least,  be  admitted 
to  "  seem  to  come  short  of  it  1  "  What 
indeed  is  to  be  said  to  the  world  ]  God 
forbid  that  we  should  bear  hardly  on 
those  who  have  already  much  to  bear,  in 
the  burden  of  their  own  doubts,  mis- 
givings, and  fears.  But  I  question 
whether  Christians  sufficiently  consider 
the  injury  which  they  may  do  to  the 
cause  of  the  Savior,  by  not  striving  to 
"rejoice  in  the  Lord,"  and  to  display  in 
their  deportment  the  happy-malting 
power  of  vital  religion.  I  question 
whether  they  sufficiently  feel  the  duty 
of  wrestling  with  those  doubts  which 
give  them  all  the  air  of  dispirited  and 
disconsolate  men — the  duty,  not  merely, 
and  not  even  chiefly,  because  doubts 
rob  them  of  comforts  which  God  gra- 
ciously intended  to  be  theirs  ;  but  be- 
cause doubts,  by  thus  throwing  over 
them  an  aspect  of  sadness  and  gloom, 


THE  APPEARANCE  OF  FAILURE. 


87 


misrepresent  piety,  either  causing  or 
strengthening  the  impression  that  God 
is  a  hard  task-master,  and  that,  in  keep- 
ing of  his  commandments,  there  is  little 
or  nothing  of  present  reward. 

It  could  hardly  fail  to  be  a  new  and 
strong  motive  with  religious  persons  to 
the  cultivating  cheerfulness  of  deport- 
ment, and  therefore  to  the  withstanding 
those  disheartening  fears,  which  they 
perhaps  think  even  wholesome,  as  keep- 
ing them  humble — just  as  though  a  firm 
confidence  of  acceptance  through  the 
cross  of  the  Redeemer  were  not  itself 
the  great  foe  of  pride — if  they  carefully 
remembered  that  others  will  judge  reli- 
gion by  its  apparent  effects,  and  that,  if 
they  see  it  produce  only  sadness,  they 
will  be  likely  to  shun  it  as  opposed  to 
all  joy.  A  gloomy  Christian  may  not 
be  always  always  able  to  he!])  his  gloom  ; 
but  he  should  lament  it,  and  strive  with 
it  :  for  what  will  a  generous  leader  say 
of  a  soldier,  who  commissioned  to  enlist 
others  under  the  same  banner  with  him- 
self, makes  his  appearance  in  the  world 
as  aterrified  and  half-famished  prisoner? 
Oh  no  !  it  is  not  enough  that  ye  do  not 
come  short.  It  is  not  enough  that, 
through  darkness  and  doubt,  ye  struggle 
at  last  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  Ye 
should  aim  at  something  higher  than 
this.  Ye  should  aim  at  adorning  the 
doctrine  of  the  Savior,  setting  it  off  to 
the  best  advantage,  recommending  it  to 
a  world  which  is  eager  in  the  pursuit  after 
happiness,  as  that  which  makes  good  the 
saying,  "  Her  ways  are  ways  of  pleasant- 
ness, and  all  her  paths  are  peace."  And,  I 
therefore,  in  place  of  always  harboring  : 
and  indulging  other  fears,  fears  which, 
as  originating  in  a  sense  of  unworthi- 
ness,  should  be  met  with  the  truth  that  j 
it  was  for  the  unworthy  Jesus  died, 
let  the  fear  expressed  in  our  text 
be  henceforwards  constant  in  opera- 
tion, even  the  fear  "  lest,  a  promise 
being  left  us  of  entering  into  his 
rest,  any  of  you  should  seem  to  come 
short  of  it." 

But  now,  having  thus  illustrated  the 
text  from  inconsistency  of  conduct,  and 
from  the  harboring  of  doubts,  either  of 
which  will  cause  a  Christian  to  "  seem 
to  come  short,"  let  us  take  one  other 
case,  one  which  is  not  perhaps  indeed 
as  much  under  our  own  power,  but  one 
against  which   we   may   be   always  en- 

The  great  busi- 


deavoring  to  provide. 


ness  of  life,  as  we  all  confess,  is  prepa- 
ration for  death.  And  a  Christian's 
hope,  a  Christian's  desire,  should  be  that 
he  may  be  enabled  to  meet  death  trium- 
phantly, putting  his  foot  on  the  neck  of 
the  last  enemy,  and  proving  that  Christ 
hath  despoiled  him  of  his  sting.  It 
should  not  content  him  that  he  may  pass 
in  safety  through  the  dark  valley,  though 
with  little  of  that  firm  sense  of  victory 
which  discovers  itself  in  the  exultino- 
tone,  or  the  burning  vision.  This  in- 
deed is  much — oh  !  that  we  might  be- 
heve  that  none,  now  present,  would 
have  less  than  this.  But,  in  having  only 
this,  a  Christian  may  "  seem  to  come 
short."  And  there  is  often  a  mighty 
discouragement  from  the  death-beds  of 
the  righteous,  when,  as  the  darkness 
thickens,  and  the  strength  declines, 
there  is  apparently  but  little  consolation 
from  the  prospect  of  eternity.  Even 
as,  on  the  other  hand,  when  a  righteous 
man  is  enabled  to  meet  death  exulting- 
ly,  as  though  he  had  but  to  step  into  the 
car  of  fire,  and  be  wafted  almost  visibly 
to  the  heavenly  city,  there  is  diffused 
over  a  neighborhood  a  sort  of  animating 
influence ;  the  tidings  of  the  victory 
spread  rapidly  from  house  to  house  : 
the  boldness  of  infidelity  quails  before 
them  ;  meek  piety  takes  new  courage, 
and  attempts  new  toils. 

And  it  ought  not,  therefore,  to  satisfy 
us  that  we  may  so  die  as  not  to  come 
short  of  heaven  :  we  ought  to  labor  that 
we  may  so  die  as  not  even  to  "  seem  to 
come  short  of  it."  It  is  doubly  dying, 
if,  in  dying,  we  work  an  injury  to  our 
brethren ;  it  is  scarcely  dying,  if  we 
strengthen  them  for  their  departure  out 
of  life.  This  is,  in  its  measure,  the 
doing  what  was  done  by  the  Redeemer 
Himself,  who,  "  through  death,  destroy- 
ed him  that  had  the  power  of  death  :" 
the  believer,  as  he  enters  the  grave, 
deals  a  blow  at  the  tyrant,  which  ren- 
ders him  less  terrible  to  those  who  have 
yet  to  meet  him  in  the  final  encounter. 
And  by  continued  preparation  for  death, 
by  accustoming  ourselves  to  the  antici- 
pation of  death,  by  the  striying  always  so 
to  live  that  death  may  not  take  us  by 
surprise,  but  that,  having  the  loins  girt, 
the  lamps  trimmed,  and  the  lights  burn- 
ing, we  may  be  as  men  expecting  the 
bridegroom,  we  may  indeed  hope  to  be 
so  ready,  through  God's  help,  for  the  act 
of  departure,  that  our  passage  through 


88 


THE  APPEARANCE  OF  FAILURE. 


tlie  valley  shall  lie  rather  with  the  tread 
of  the  conqueroi*,  than  with  the  painful 
step  of  the  timid  pilgrim. 

It  is  true  that  we  have  not  power 
Over  the  circumstances  of  our  death  ; 
that  we  cannot  insure  ourselves  a  tri- 
umphant death  ;  and  that  God,  for  wise 
ends,  may  often  be  pleased,  in  removing 
his  people  from  earth,  to  withhold  from 
them  those  glimpses  of  things  within 
the  vail,  which,  whenever  vouchsafed, 
seem  to  light  up  a  sick  room,  as  though 
angels,  with  their  bright  wings,  were 
visibly  present.  But  perhaps  it  may  be 
generally  true,  that  they  who  have  made 
it  their  aim  that  they  might  not  "seem 
to  come  short  "  during  life,  are  not  per- 
mitted to  "  seem  to  come  short "  in 
death.  He  who  lives  most  consistently 
is  perhaps  commonly  enabled  to  die 
most  triumphantly.  He  who  is  most 
earnest  in  scattering  those  doubts  which 
are  dishonoring  to  the  Savior,  harassing 
to  himself,  and  injurious  to  the  Church, 
will  find  the  termination  of  his  earthly 
path  haunted  with  fewest  of  those  dark 
and  spectral  things,  which  agitate  a  be- 
liever, even  though  he  feel  that  his  Re- 
deemer is  near. 

See,  then,  a  new  motive  to  the  striving 
go  to  live  that  you  may  not  "  seem  to  come 
short,"  whether  of  the  practice  or  the 
privilege  of  true  followers  of  Christ.  It 
is  thus  that  you  may  have  reason  to 
hope  that  you  shall  not  "  seem  to  come 
short"  when  you  die.  And  again  we 
say,  think  not  little  of  this.  I  have  be- 
fore me  two  pictures  ;  come  and  gaze, 
and  then  think  it  little  if  you  can.  I 
gee  a  Christian  stretched  on  his  death- 
bed, patient  indeed,  and  hearkening 
eagerly  to  the  words  of  those  who  stand 
round,  and  who  are  speaking  to  him  of 
that  "  Lamb  of  God  which  taketh  away 
the    sin  of  the   world."     But  there   is 


little  of  hopefulness  in  his  look,  and  as 
little  in  his  language.  "  O  my  friends  " 
— these  are  his  struggling  utterances — 
"  it  is  an  awful  thing  to  die.  I  trust 
that  the  Savior  in  whom  I  have  believed 
will  not  desert  me  in  this  sad  extremity  ; 
but  there  is  much  of  darkness  on  my 
mind,  now  that  I  most  need  the  cheer- 
inor  lio-ht."  The  weeping  relatives  are 
not  dismayed  by  these  words  ;  for  they 
have  reason  to  be  assured  of  the  piety 
of  the  dying  man  ;  but  they  feel  more 
and  more  the  tremendousness  of  death, 
and,  in  their  broken  whimperings  one  to 
another,  they  say,  Alas  for  ourselves, 
when  even  this  our  brother  "  seems  Jo 
come  short." 

But  1  see  another  Christian  meeting 
death.  His  look  is  that  of  one  who  al- 
ready has  his  hand  on  an  incorruptible 
crown.  His  voice,  weakened  indeed  by 
approaching  dissolution,  gives  forth  the 
tones  of  confidence  and  exultation. 
"  Sorrow  not  for  me,  my  beloved  ones. 
With  Stephen,  I  see  Jesu«  at  the  right 
hand  of  God.  With  Job,  '  I  know  that 
my  Redeemeth  liveth.'  I  am  safe  in 
the  good  Shepherd's  keeping  :  yet  an- 
other struscrle,  and  I  am  with  Him  for 
ever  in  the  rich  pastures  above." 

Ah  !  how  do  these  words  encourage 
survivors.  They  go  forth  like  men 
armed  anew  for  duty  and  trial.  They 
tell  the  scene  to  others.  The  whole 
Church  rallies  round  the  grave,  and 
takes  fresh  courage.  The  dead  man, 
who  thus  visibly  conquered,  is  like 
Elisha  in  the  sepulchre — to  touch  his 
bones  is  to  gain  new  life.  Ah  !  look 
upon  this  ;  and  will  you  not  hencefor- 
wards  live  as  those  who  fear,  "  lest,  a 
promise  being  left  us  of  entering  into 
his  rest,  any  of  you,"  at  the  last,  "  should 
seem  to  come  short  of  it  %  " 


SIMON  THE  CYRENIAN. 


80 


SERMON    XI. 


SIMON  THE  CYRENIAN. 


And  as  they  came  out,  they  found  a  man  of  Cyrene,  Simon  by  name:  him  they  compelled  to  bear  his  cross." — 

Matthew  xxvii.  32. 


This  fact  is  also  recorded,  and  almost 
in  the  same  terms,  by  St.  Mark  and  St. 
Luke;  and  we  may  think  that  three 
evangelists  would  scarcely  have  all  in- 
serted it  in  their  narratives,  had  it  nor 
deserved  more  attention  than  it  seems 
ordinarily  to  receive.  The  circumstance 
is  not  noticed  by  St.  John,  whose  object 
was  rather  to  supply  deficiencies  in  for- 
mer gospels,  than  to  repeat  their  state- 
ments. But  St.  John  enables  us  better 
to  understand  the  laying  the  cross  upon 
Simon  :  for  we  could  not  determine  from 
the  three  first  evangelists  whether  or 
not  it  had  been  first  laid  upon  Christ. 
This  is  an  important  point,  as  you  will 
afterwards  see  :  we  could  gather  little 
or  nothing  from  the  fact  that  Simon  was 
made  to  carry  the  cross,  if  we  were  not 
sure  that  it  was  first  carried  by  Christ. 
But  this  is  not  affirmed  either  by  St. 
Matthew,  St.  Mark,  or  St.  Luke.  These 
evangelists  merely  mention  that  the  sol- 
diers, as  they  led  away  Jesus  to  crucify 
Him,  met  with  Simon  the  Cyrenian, 
and  compelled  him  to  be  the  cross-bear- 
er :  but  whatever  we  might  have  con- 
jectured, or  whatever  we  might  have 
concluded  from  the  usual  practice  of  the 
Romans,  we  could  not  have  been  confi- 
dent from  this,  that  Christ  had  borne  his 
cross  till  it  was   thus  laid  upon  another. 

But  St.  John,  omitting  all  notice  of 
Simon,  expressly  says  of  our  Lord,  "  He, 
bearing  his  cross,  went  forth  into  a  place, 
cilled  the  place  of  a  skull."  This  is  a 
beautiful  instance  of  the  nicety  witli 
which  the  fourth  evangelist  may  be  said 
to  have  observed  what  was  wanting  in 
the  other  three  :  he  fills  up,  so  to  speak, 
a  crevice,  or  puts  in  a  link,  so  as  to  com- 


plete a  narrative,  or  unite  its  scattered 
parts. 

Combining  the  accounts  of  the  sever- 
al  historians,  we  now  know  that  when 
our  Lord  was  given  up  by  Pilate  to  the 
will  of  his  enemies,  the  soldiers,  as  was 
the  ordinary  practice  in  regard  of  those 
sentenced  to  crucifixion,  laid  upon  Him 
the  cross  whereon  He  was  to  die.  After 
He  had  carried  it  a  certain  distance, 
the  soldiers,  for  one  reason  or  another, 
took  it  from  Him,  and  placed  it  on  a 
Cyrenian  whom  they  happened  to  meet ; 
and  this  Simon  bore  it  to  Calvary.  We 
have  no  certain  information  as  to  who 
Simon  was,  whether  or  not  a  disciple 
of  Christ.  He  is  mentioned  by  St.  Mark 
as  "the  father  of  Alexander  and  Rufus  :" 
but  though  this  would  seem  to  indicate 
that  he  and  his  family  were  well  known 
at  the  time,  it  does  not  help  us  to  de- 
termine particulars.  The  probability 
would  seem  to  be,  that  he  was  at  least 
disposed  to  favor  Christ,  and  that  this 
his  disposition  was  matter  of  notoriety — 
nothing  is  more  likely  than  that  it  was 
on  account  of  his  attachment  to  Jesus, 
and  for  the  sake  therefore  of  exposing 
him  to  public  ridicule,  that  the  .soldiers 
compelled  him  to  carry  the  cross. 

But  allowing  the  probability  that  he 
was  known  to  favor  the  cause  of  Christ, 
we  have  no  means  of  ascertaining  whe- 
ther he  were  a  Jew  or  a  Gentile  :  for 
ecclesiastical  history  furnishes  nothing 
respecting  him  beyond  what  is  furnish- 
ed by  the  evangelists.  In  the  book  in- 
deed of  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  where 
the  prophets  and  teachers  in  the  Church 
of  Antioch  are  enumerated,  we  have 
mention   of  "  Simeon    that    was    called 

12 


90 


SIMON  THE  CYRENIAN. 


Niger;  "  and  many  have  imagined  that 
this  might  be  "Simon  the  Cyrenian  " — 
the  surname  Niger,  or  black,  being 
thought  to  accord  with  the  birthplace  ; 
for  Cyrene  was  a  city  and  province  of 
Libya  in  Africa.  If  this  identity  were 
determined,  there  would  be  no  doubt  as 
to  Simon's  having  been  a  Jew  :  but  it 
is  merely  the  resemblance  in  name  which 
has  led  to  the  supposition  ;  and  even 
this  resemblance  is  insufficient  to  sup- 
port any  theory  ;  for  the  same  Evange- 
list speaks  of  Simon  the  Cyrenian,  and 
of  Simeon,  called  Niger.  We  must 
therefore  be  content  to  remain  ignorant 
in  regard  of  the  individual  who  boi-e  the 
cross  of  Christ ;  and  we  may  find  that 
this  ignorance  will  not  interfere  with  the 
lessons  to  be  drawn  from  the  occurrence. 

The  occurrence  itself,  as  we  have  al- 
ready intimated,  is  one  which  may  be 
easily  overlooked,  but  which  perhaps 
only  requires  to  be  carefully  considered 
in  order  to  the  bein^  found  full  of  in- 
terest  and  instruction.  Let  us  then  join 
ourselves  to  the  multitude  who  are 
thronging  round  Jesus,  as,  with  slow 
and  fainting  steps,  He  toils  towards 
Calvary.  There  is  a  moment's  pause  : 
an  individual  is  met,  coming  out  of  the 
country  :  the  attendant  soldiers  seize 
him,  and  compel  him  to  bear  the  cross 
which  the  Redeemer  had  hitherto  car- 
ried. This  is  the  incident  which  we  are 
to  ponder  :  we  will  go  no  further  with 
the  infuriated  crowd  ;  but,  sitting  down, 
will  examine  what  truths  and  lessons 
may  be  derived  from  what  has  just  been 
observed,  namely,  that  "  as  they  came 
out,  they  found  a  man  of  Cyrene,  Simon 
by  name  :  him  they  compelled  to  bear 
his  cross." 

Now  it  is  very  interesting  to  remark 
how  the  accomplishment  of  ancient  pro- 
phecy seems  often  to  have  hung  upon  a 
thread,  so  that  the  least  thing,  a  thought 
or  a  word,  might  have  sufficed  to  pre- 
vent its  occurrence.  There  are  many 
predictions  in  reference  to  Christ,  which 
could  only  be  fulfilled  by  his  enemies, 
and  of  which  we  might  have  expected 
that  these  enemies,  anxious  to  disprove 
his  claims,  would  have  been  too  shrewd 
to  help  the  accomplishment.  The  mar- 
vel is,  that  these  enemies  were  not  more 
on  the  alert ;  that  they  should  have  done, 
or  allowed  things  which,  on  a  moment's 
consideration,  they  might  have  seen  to 
be  evidences   that  Jesus    was    Messiah. 


One  would  have  expected  that,  with 
prophecies  in  their  hands  which  they 
themselves  applied  to  the  Christ,  they 
would  have  taken  pains  to  prevent,  so 
far  as  possible,  their  apparent  fulfilment 
in  Jesus  of  Nazareth.  And  yet,  as  if 
judicially  blinded,  they  themselves 
brought  about  the  fulfilment,  and  that, 
too,  in  cases  where  prevention  seemed 
quite  in  their  power.  Did  they  not 
know  what  Zechariah  had  predicted  in 
reference  to  the  price  at  which  Christ 
would  be  sold  ]  and  yet  they  sold  Jesus 
for  the  very  sum  ;  a  thought  only  being 
wanting,  and  one  piece  of  money  might 
have  been  added  or  taken  off,  and  thus 
a  noted  prophecy  have  failed  of  accom- 
plishment in  Him  whom  they  crucified. 
Thus  again,  how  easy  it  would  have 
been — and  for  men  who  were  seeking  to 
disprove  the  pretensions  of  Jesus,  how 
natural — to  take  care  that  vinegar  and 
gall  should  not  be  given  Him  on  the 
cross,  and  that  the  soldiers  should  not 
part  his  garments  amongst  them,  nor 
cast  lots  upon  his  vesture.  There  would 
have  been  no  difficulty,  in  these  and 
other  similar  respects,  in  hindering  the 
fulfilment  of  prophecy  :  and  the  wonder 
is,  that  men,  familiar  with  prophecy,  ac- 
customed to  apply  it  to  the  Messiah,  and 
eager  at  the  same  time  to  prove  that 
Jesus  was  not  the  Messiah,  should  have 
either  effected  or  permitted  the  fulfil- 
ment, thus  completing  the  evidence, 
which  they  had  full  power,  as  it  seemed, 
to  weaken  or  mutilate. 

It  is  a  striking  proof  of  the  thorough 
certainty  with  which  God  can  reckon  on 
every  working  of  the  human  mind,  that 
He  should  thus  have  put  it  into  the 
power  of  the  bitter  enemies  of  Jesus  to 
arrest  the  fulfilment  of  prophecies.  He 
could  so  shape  predictions  that  a  single 
thought,  and  that  I  he  thought  most  likely 
to  arise,  would  be  enough  to  prevent 
their  being  accomplished  in  his  Son  ; 
and  yet  be  as  sure  that  every  tittle  would 
come  accurately  to  pass,  as  if  He  had 
ordered  it  by  a  decree  as  abiding:  as 
Himself.  It  is  not  that  God  interfered, 
by  any  direct  influence,  to  make  men 
act  as  He  had  foretold  that  they  would — 
for  this  would  be  to  suppose  Him  par- 
taker in  their  wickedness,  accomplishing 
as  well  as  predicting;.  He  left  the  ene- 
mies  of  Christ  to  themselves,  quite  at 
liberty  to  take  their  own  course  ■  but 
his   prescience   assured   Him  what  that 


SIMON  THE   CYRENIAN. 


91 


course  would  be  ;  and,  acting  simply  on 
his  foreknowledge,  He  could  place  a 
prophecy  within  a  hair-breadth,  as  we 
think,  of  being  defeated,  whilst  its  ful- 
filment was  as  certain  as  though  it  had 
occurred. 

And  we  consider  that  we  have  in  the 
narrative  now  under  review  an  instance 
of  prophecy  thus  accomplished,  when  it 
seemed  within  an  ace  of  being  unfulfil- 
led. There  is  no  more  illustrious  type 
of  the  Redeemer,  presented  in  sacrifice 
to  God,  than  Isaac,  whom,  at  the  Divine 
command,  his  father  Abraham  prepared 
to  offer  on  Moriah.  We  have  every  rea- 
son for  supposing  that,  in  and  through 
this  typical  oblation,  God  instructed  the 
patriarch  in  the  great  truth  of  human 
redemption;  so  that  it  was  as  he  stood 
by  the  altar,  and  lifted  up  his  knife  to 
slay  his  son,  that  Abraham  discerned  the 
shillings  of  Christ's  day,  and  rejoiced  in 
the  knowledge  of  a  propitiation  for  sin. 
And  whatever  the  measure  in  which 
Abraham  was  instructed  as  to  the  figu- 
rative  meaning  of  the  offering  up  of 
Isaac,  there  can  be  no  doubt  with  our- 
selves that  herein  was  accurately  por- 
trayed the  sacrifice  of  Christ — the  sa- 
crifice presented,  in  the  fulness  of  time, 
on  the  very  spot  where  Abraham  was 
directed  to  immolate  his  son. 

But  it  is  among  the  most  significant, 
perhaps,  and  certainly  the  most  affect- 
ing, parts  of  the  typical  transaction,  that 
Isaac  was  made  to  cai-ry  the  wood  on 
which  he  was  to  be  presented  in  sacri- 
fice to  God.  We  read  that  "  Abraham 
took  the  wood  of  the  burnt-offering,  and 
laid  it  upon  Isaac  his  son."  Are  we  to 
think  that  this  was  done  without  expli- 
cit direction  from  God?  It  is  hardly 
credible.  Abraham,  full  of  tenderness 
towards  Isaac,  his  whole  soul  yearning 
over  the  son  of  his  love,  and  agonized 
by  the  command  which  he  was  hasten- 
ing to  obey,  would  not  have  laid  the 
heavy  burden  on  the  lad,  unless  in  con- 
formity with  an  injunction  from  God. 
Of  Abraham  we  are  told,  that  he  "  took 
the  fire  in  his  hand,  and  a  knife."  So 
that  the  patriarch  had  nothing  but  what 
was  light  to  carry  :  the  only  burdensome 
thing — and  it  must  have  been  burden- 
some, if  there  were  wood  enough  for 
sucli  a  burnt-offering  as  Abraham  ex- 
pected— was  bound  upon  the  child ;  in- 
credible, we  may  say,  had  the  father  been 
left  to   himself:  for   the  consciousness 


that  he  must  soon  pierce  the  heart  of 
his  son,  would  only  make  him  more  ten- 
der and  affectionate  till  the  fatal  mo- 
ment came.  We  take  it  therefore  as 
expressly  ordered  by  God,  that  the  wood 
of  the  burnt-offering  should  be  laid  upon 
Isaac :  it  was  a  part  of  the  type  :  and, 
taking  the  type  as  a  prophecy,  we  might 
justly  speak  of  a  flaw  in  the  fulfilment, 
were  there  nothing  that  answered  to  it 
in  the  oblation  of  Christ.  And  to  those 
who  knew  nothing  of  the  exact  mode 
in  which  Christ  was  to  suffer,  this  might 
have  seemed  one  of  the  obscurest  por- 
tions of  the  type  :  how  the  sacrifice  could 
carry  the  wood  on  which  he  was  to  die, 
was  a  question  that  could  hardly  be  an- 
swered, until  it  was  known  that  the 
death  would  be  the  death  of  the  cross. 

But  the  type  was  thoroughly  fulfilled 
in  this  singular  particular,  when  our 
Lord  was  led  forth,  carrying  his  cross. 
This  was,  to  the  letter,  Isaac,  bearing 
the  wood  for  the  burnt-offering.  Yet 
how  near  was  the  prophecy  to  the  being 
defeated  !  It  was  only  for  a  part  of  the 
way  that  Christ  carried  the  cross.  The 
soldiers  then  took  it  from  Him,  and 
placed  it  on  another.  And  they  might 
at  the  first  have  seized  on  some  bystand- 
er and  given  him  the  burden.  It  could 
not  have  been  indispensable  that  Christ 
should  bear  it  Himself:  for,  on  such 
supposition,  they  would  hardly  have 
transferred  the  load.  And  if  any  of 
the  Pharisees  or  scribes,  remembering 
the  typical  history  of  Isaac,  and  deter- 
mining that  it  should  not  foreshadow 
that  of  Jesus,  had  suggested  to  the  sol- 
diery, perhaps  with  affected  compassion, 
that  it  might  be  as  well  to  lay  the  cross 
on  another,  it  is  probable  enough  that 
they  would  have  acted  on  the  sugges- 
tion, and  done  that  at  first  which  they 
were  ready  to  do  after  a  little  delay. 
So  near  may  the  type  have  been  to  the 
being  unfulfilled  ;  so  little  may  have  been 
wanting  to  prevent  the  accomplishment 
of  a  signal  prediction.  But  God,  who 
could  speak  through  his  servant  Zecha- 
riah  of  thirty  pieces  of  silver  as  the 
price  of  the  Messiah,  and  be  confident 
that  a  prophecy,  which  He  made  it  easy 
to  defeat,  would  be  fulfilled  to  the  very 
letter,  could  command  also  the  wood  to 
be  bound  upon  Isaac,  and  know  that, 
notwithstanding  the  palpable  character 
of  the  type,  the  cross  would  be  bound 
upon  Christ. 


92 


SIMON  THE   CYnENIAN. 


And  this  is  the  first  reflection  which 
we  have  to  make,  as  we  see  that  Simon 
the  Cyrenian  is  constrained  to  carry  the 
cross  after  Christ.  Had  we  met  the 
procession  when  a  little  further  ad- 
vanced, we  might  have  said,  This  suf- 
fering man,  who  is  led  forth  to  death, 
cannot  possibly  he  Messiah,  the  antitype 
to  Isaac  ;  for  he  does  not  bear  the  wood 
on  which  He  is  to  die.  But  now  we 
have  beheld  the  transfer  of  the  cross  : 
we  know  that  it  was  not  laid  upon  Si- 
mon, until  it  had  been  carried  by  Christ, 
until,  that  is,  the  type  had  been  fulfilled, 
and  Isaac  had  reappeared  in  a  greater 
than  himself.  And  it  is  the  transfer  of 
the  cross  which  makes  so  remarkable 
the  fulfilment  of  the  type.  Had  Christ 
borne  the  cross  to  the  end,  we  might 
have  thought  it  a  matter  of  course  that 
the  type  should  be  fulfilled,  regarding 
the  fulfilment  as  assured  by  the  known 
customs  of  a  Roman  execution.  But 
the  fulfilment  is  here  in  jeopardy ;  it 
it  lasted  only  a  portion  of  the  lime ;  it 
might  therefore  have  not  occurred  at 
all  :  caprice  on  the  part  of  the  soldiers, 
or  design  upon  that  of  the  scribes,  might 
have  entirely  prevented  it.  And  I  seem 
to  have  before  me  a  beautiful  evidence 
how  the  fore  knowledge  of  God  can  as- 
sure  Him  of  the  minutest  particulars,  of 
every  turn  of  human  thought,  of  every 
motion  of  the  human  will,  when  I  find 
that  Jesus  did  indeed  come  forth  bear- 
ing his  cross,  and  therefore  accomplish- 
ing an  illustrious  prediction,  but  that 
shortly  afterwards,  in  the  course,  for 
aught  I  know,  of  a  very  few  minutes, 
the  soldiers  laid  hold  on  one  Simon,  a 
Cyrenian,  and  compelled  him  to  carry 
the  cross  after  Christ. 

But  what  induced  the  fierce  and  bru- 
tal soldiers  to  grant  the  Redeemer  this 
little  indulgence,  and  relieve  Him  for  a 
time  from  the  burden  of  the  cross  1  We 
have  already  supposed  that  Simon  the 
Cyrenian  was  laid  hold  of,  on  account 
of  his  being  known  to  favor  Christ's 
cause,  and  partly,  therefore,  with  the 
design  of  exposing  him  to  ridicule.  But 
it  is  not  to  be  imagined  that  this  was  the 
only,  nor  even  the  chief,  reason.  Had 
not  the  condition  of  Christ  been  such  as 
to  suggest,  in  some  sense,  the  necessity 
of  relieving  Him  of  the  load,  we  can 
hardly  think  that  the  cross  would  have 
been  removed.  It  may  have  been  that 
even  the  soldiers  were  moved  to  some 


thing  like  pity,  as  they  saw  the  Redeem- 
er tottering  beneath  the  weight.  It  may 
have  been  that  they  feared,  that,  if  they 
now  goaded  on  the  innocent  sufferer, 
death  would  ensue  before  they  reach- 
ed the  place  of  execution,  and  rob 
them  of  their  victim.  Or  it  may  have 
been  that  those  who  were  eager  to  cru- 
cify the  Savior  were  impatient  of  delay; 
his  feeble  steps  were  too  slow  for  their 
malice  ;  and  they  urged  the  removal  of 
the  cross,  that  they  might  accelerate  the 
time  of  his  being  fastened  to  it  with  the 
nails. 

But  in  any  case,  it  must  have  been 
the  exhausted  condition  of  our  Lord 
which  gave  occasion  to  the  removal  of 
the  cross:  it  was  transferred  to  Simon, 
because,  to  all  appearance,  Christ  was 
unable  iO  bear  it  to  Calvary.  And  this 
is  just  that  incidental  notice  which  sup- 
plies the  place  of  lengthened  narrative, 
and  lets  us  in,  as  it  were,  to  the  great- 
.  ness  of  the  Mediator's  endurances.  You 
cannot  fail  to  be  struck,  when  you  read 
the  accounts  of  the  crucifixion,  with  the 
utter  absence  of  those  expressions  of 
pain,  or  assertions  of  suffering,  which 
abound  in  mere  human  histories  of  some 
tragic  occurrence.  If  you  except  that 
most  thrilling  exclamation,  "My  God,  my 
God,  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me]  "  there 
is  nothing  whatsoever  uttered  by  the  suf- 
fering Redeemer,  from  which  you  can 
conclude  that  He  suffered  at  all.  And  even 
this  exclamation  indicated  mental,  rather 
than  bodily  anguish  :  the  deep  and  piteous 
cry  was  wrung  from  Christ,  not  by  the 
tortures  of  crucifixion,  but  by  the  hiding, 
the  eclipse,  of  the  countenance  of  his 
Father.  Indeed,  it  is  also  recorded  by 
St.  John,  that  Jesus,  as  He  hung  on  the 
cross,  exclaimed,  "  I  thirst ;"  and  this 
may  be  taken  as  an  expression  of  cor- 
poreal suffering.  But  it  is  very  observ- 
able, that  the  Evangelist  distinctly  states 
that  Jesus  said  this,  in  order  "  that  the 
Scripture  might  be  fulfilled,"  for  the 
sake  of  effecting  the  accomplishment  of 
the  prediction,  "  And  in  my  thirst  they 
gave  me  vinegar  to  drink."  It  seems 
implied  by  St.  John,  that  Christ  would 
have  said  nothing  as  to  his  thirst,  had 
He  not  remembered  a  prophecy  which 
was  yet  unaccomplished,  so  that  the  ex- 
clamation is  hardly  to  be  given  in  proof 
of  the  greatness  of  bodily  anguish. 

And  it  might  not  be   very  difficult  to 
arrange  something  like  a  plausible  theo- 


SIMON  THE  CYRENIAN. 


93 


vy  that  the  Redeemer  was  incapable  of 
Buffering  in  the  body  :  for  it,  is  evident 
enough  that  He  did  not  die  through  any 
extremity  of  nature  ;  He  was  not  ex- 
hausted, but  voluntarily  breathed  out 
his  soul  :  and  when  you  add  this  to  the 
fact,  that  not  a  word  escaped  Him  from 
which  we  can  certainly  gather  that  He 
suffered  in  the  flesh,  there  might  cer- 
tainly seem  some  ground  for  supposing, 
that,  though  He  bore  a  human  form, 
He  was  not  accessible  to  human  pain. 
And  we  need  not  stay  to  show  you  how 
fatal  such  a  supposition  would  be  to  the 
whole  Christian  system  :  for  you  all 
know,  that,  had  not  Christ  been,  in  the 
strictest  sense,  a  man,  a  man  like  one  of 
ourselves,  sin  only  excepted,  He  could 
not  have  acted  as  our  surety  in  turning 
away  from  us  the  anger  of  God.  But  a 
man  like  one  of  ourselves  He  could  not 
have  been,  unless,  like  one  of  ourselves, 
He  had  been  accessible  to  pain,  so  as 
to  feel,  and  to  suffer  keenly  in  feeling, 
the  scourging,  and  the  buffeting,  and 
the  driving  of  the  nails.  It  seems  there- 
fore as  if  it  would  be  inexpressibly 
valuable  to  us,  were  it  only  recorded 
that  He  groaned  or  sighed  when  sub- 
mitting  to  the  fearful  processes  of  cru- 
cifixion. Had  but  the  least  sisrn  of  an- 
guish  escaped  Him — of  bodily  anguish  ; 
for  mental  is  quite  another  thing  ;  He 
evinced  this  in  the  garden  as  well  as  on 
the  ci'oss  ;  but  it  was  purely  mental,  and 
proved  nothing  as  to  his  flesh ; — had 
then  the  least  sign  of  bodily  anguish  es- 
caped Him,  a  look,  a  cry,  a  convulsive 
start,  and  had  it  been  mentioned  by  Evan- 
gelists, it  would  have  served  to  identify 
the  Redeemer  with  ourselves,  and  to 
make  us  feel  that  he  was  indeed  "  bone 
of  our  bone,  and  flesh  of  our  flesh." 
But  a  crucifixion  without  the  slightest 
manifestation  of  pain,  nay,  with  such 
manifestation  of  superiority  to  pain,  that 
the  crucified  one  could  count  over  what 
prophecies  yet  remained  to  be  accom- 
plished, give  directions  as  to  a  home  for 
his  mother,  and  determine  at  what  mo- 
ment his  soul  should  depart ;  this  al- 
most looks  as  though  He  who  hung  upon 
the  cross  had  no  feeling  of  the  torture  : 
and  how  then  could  He  have  been  my 
kinsman  in  all  but  depravity,  my  brother 
in  all  but  mv  o-uilt  1 

But  here  the  incident,  on  which  we 
are  discoursing,  comes  in,  and  scatters 
all  doubt.     I  could  not  spare  this  inci- 


dent ;  it  just  serves  to  assure  me  of  the 
bodily  sufferings  of  Christ  ;  it  is  to  me 
what  an  extorted  (n-oan  would  have 
been,  a  decisive  witness,  that  the  mar- 
vellous patience  of  the  Redeemer  in  no 
degree  indicated  that  He  did  not  feel  in 
the  flesh.  For  why  is  the  cross  taken 
from  Him,  and  placed  upon  Simon  1 
Because  He  could  scarcely  advance,  so 
exhausted  was  He  with  what  He  had 
endured,  and  so  oppressed  by  the  bur- 
den. He  had  already  been  scourged 
and  buffeted.  He  had  been  smitten  on 
the  head  with  a  reed  :  his  brow  had 
been  pierced  with  the  thorns  :  cruel  in- 
sults had  been  heaped  upon  Him  :  for 
the  soldiers  had  arrayed  Him  in  purple, 
and  bowed  tauntingly  before  Him,  "  say- 
ing, Hail,  king  of  the  Jews."  And 
there  is  not  the  least  hint  given  by  the 
Evangelists,  that,  throughout  this  fierce 
and  ignominious  treatment,  He  gave 
any  indication  of  pain  :  He  might  have 
been  more  than  a  stoic,  indifferent  to 
pain  ;  He  might  have  been  of  a  nature 
which  was  incapable  of  pain.  But 
when  the  cross  was  laid  upon  Him,  and, 
after  a  time,  He  grew  faint  beneath  the 
load — ah,  then  was  it  seen  how  what 
He  passed  through  told  upon  the  body  ; 
He  had  felt,  if  He  had  not  shown  his 
feeling ;  and  now  as  he  tottered  feebly 
on,  almost  prostrated  by  his  burden,  a 
sinking  sufferer  whose  every  step  seem- 
ed likely  to  be  his  last,  indeed,  indeed, 
it  was  evident  that  He  was  but  a  man, 
in  the  having  flesh  which  could  quiver, 
if  He  were  more  than  a  man  in  his 
power  over  body  and  soul.  And  thus 
is  the  incident  narrated  in  our  text,  and 
which  may  be  easily  passed  by  with  but 
cursory  notice,  most  consolatory  to  those 
who  seek  to  be  assured  that  the  Media- 
tor "  suffered,  being  tempted,"  and  that 
the  mysterious  fact  of  his  combining  in 
one  person  the  Divine  nature  and  the 
human,  did  not  exempt  Him  from  such 
capacity  of  pain  as  might  qualify  Him 
to  sympathize  with  the  groaning  and 
oppressed. 

We  tell  you  again,  we  could  not  spare 
this  incident :  it  would  leave  a  gap  in 
evangelical  histories,  which  it  would  he 
quite  beyond  our  power  to  fill.  We 
have  indeed  evidence  that  Christ  could 
hunger,  and  thirst,  and  be  weary;  and 
all  such  evidence  is  most  .precious,  as 
testifying  to  the  real  humanity  of  the 
Savior.     But  nevertheless,  the  evidence 


94 


SIMON  THE  CYRENIAN. 


is  far  from  being  considerable  ;  and  if 
you  set  it  against  the  account  of  a  cru- 
cifixion, in  which  there  is  not  the  least 
proof  that  any  pain  was  felt,  you  might 
find  it  hard  to  furnish  a  convincing  de- 
monstration that  Christ  suffered  in  the 
body  like  one  of  ourselves.  What  we 
want  is  a  clear  witness,  that  He  was  no 
more  incapable  of  bodily  pain  than  any 
other  of  our  race ;  but  just  where  you 
would  most  naturally  look  for  this  wit- 
ness, in  the  record  of  those  endurances 
through  which  He  presented  Himself  in 
sacrifice  to  God,  you  cannot  find  it  in 
the  very  lowest  degree,  if  you  remove 
the  account  of  the  bearing  the  cross.  I 
look  with  a  sort  of  fearfulness  and  awe 
upon  the  Mediator,  as  malice  and  cruel- 
ty seem  unable  to  wring  from  Him  a 
sigh  or  a  groan.  I  gaze  in  utter  amaze- 
ment, as  He  is  lacerated  by  strijies, 
stricken  by  rude  hands,  baited  by  the 
rabble,  and  yet  suffers  no  sign  to  escape 
Him  that  He  feels  the  wounds,  and 
writhes  under  the  indignities.  And  as 
He  is  nailed  to  the  cross,  and  then  that 
cross,  straining  under  its  living  burden, 
is  lifted  from  the  earth,  and  made  to 
quiver  in  its  socket,  I  can  but  exjject 
the  low  moan  of  anguish,  if  not  the  wild 
and  piercing  shriek  ;  and  it  startles  me 
more,  that  there  should  be  deep,  sepul- 
chral silence,  than  had  the  air  been  rent 
with  the  cries  of  the  sufferer.  Is  this 
man,  as  well  as  God,  over  whom  pain 
would  seem  to  have  no  power?  Is  his 
humanity  any  thing  more  than  a  phan- 
tom 1  is  it  real,  if  thus,  to  all  appear- 
ance, inaccessible  to  pain  %  Ah,  it  is 
not  inaccessible  to  pain  :  the  scourging 
has  been  felt,  the  driving  of  the  nails 
has  been  felt,  the  fixing  the  cross  has 
been  felt.  If  yonder  victim  have  power 
to  suppress  the  indications  of  agony, 
his  agony  is  not  the  less  actual,  not  the 
less  intense.  He  has  already  shown 
that  He  feels  what  He  endures.  He 
has  already  given  evidence  enough  to 
assure  the  must  doubtful,  that  He  is 
verily  a  man,  with  all  a  man's  suscepti- 
bilities, his  consciousness  of  pain,  his 
capacity  of  being  tortured.  For  as  He 
came  out  from  the  city,  bearing  his  cross, 
so  worn  down  was  He  by  his  sufferings, 
so  faint  with  loss  of  blond,  so  exhaust- 
ed by  fatigue,  that  even  his  remorseless 
enemies  either  pitied  Him,  or  feared 
that  He  would  die  before  He  was  cru- 
cified :  "  the    soldiers    found    a  man  of 


Cyrene,  Simon  by  name,  and  him  they 
compelled  to  bear  his  cross." 

Now  hitherto  we  have  considered  the 
incident  of  the  transfer  of  the  cross,  with 
reference  exclusively  to  our  Savior;  ex- 
amining it  first  in  connexion  with  an  an- 
cient type  :  and  then  as  illustrating  the 
realitv  of  those  sufferings  through  which 
Christ  made  atonement  for  the  sins  of 
the  world.  We  have  not  yet  treated  the 
incident  as  itself  typical  or  symbolical; 
though  we  can  hardly  doubt  that  an 
event,  which  has  apparently  so  much  of 
significance,  was  designed  to  be  receiv- 
ed  by  us  as  a  parable,  and  interpreted 
as  a  lesson  to  the  Church. 

It  can  hardly  fail  to  occur  to  you, 
that,  on  more  than  one  occasion,  Christ 
had  spoken  of  taking  up  and  carrying 
the  cross,  when  he  wished  to  represent 
what  would  be  required  of  his  disciples. 
"  And  he  that  taketh  not  his  cross,  and 
followeth  after  me,  is  not  worthy  of  me." 
"  If  any  man  will  come  after  me,  let  him 
deny  himself,  and  take  up  his  cross,  and 
follow  me."  "  Go  thy  way,  sell  what- 
soever thou  hast,  and  give  to  the  poor, 
and  thou  shalt  have  treasure  in  heaven; 
and  come,  take  up  the  cross,  and  follow 
me."  There  cannot  well  be  doubt,  that, 
in  adopting  this  peculiar  imagery,  in 
making  the  bearing  of  the  cross  the  test 
of  discipleship,  our  Lord  had  respect  to 
his  own  crucifixion  :  the  metaphor,  the 
figure  of  speech,  was  one  whose  use 
must  have  arisen  from  the  death  which 
He  foreknew  that  He  should  die.  And 
it  is  only  in  consistence  with  the  uniform 
course  of  our  Savior's  public  teaching, 
that  we  should  expect  the  same  lesson 
in  significative  emblems  or  actions,  as 
we  find  delivered  in  his  sermons  or  con- 
versations. You  are  all  aware  that  mi- 
racles served  as  parables  ;  so  that  much 
which  Christ  was  in  the  habit  of  assert- 
ing in  words,  He  set  forth  figuratively 
in  those  actions  which  attested  him  to  be 
a  teacher  commissioned  by  God.  The 
miracles  were  thus  not  only  his  creden- 
tials as  a  Prophet :  they  declared  the 
subject  matter  of  his  teaching,  as  well 
as  substantiated  his  authority  to  teach. 
And  if  the  duty  of  taking  up  the  cross, 
frequently  urged  as  it  was  in  the  dis- 
courses of  Christ,  had  been  one  which 
admitted  of  being  readily  set  forth  in  his 
miracles,  we  may  believe  that  we  should 
long  before  have  had  its  figurative  as 
well  as  its  verbal  announcement.     But 


SIMON  THE  CYRENIANT. 


95 


as  Christ  was  literally  to  bear  his  cross 
only  once,  there  may  have  been  nothing 
to  suggest,  or  give  occasion  for,  the  ty- 
pical exhibition  until  that  day  of  wonder 
and  of  fear,  when  He  was  delivered  to 
the  will  of  his  enemies.  Then  however 
was  it  ordered  that  the  truth,  so  often 
urged  in  discourse,  should  be  displayed 
in  significant  action  :  when  the  Redeem- 
er has  literally  a  cross  to  bear,  that  cross 
is  also  literally  borne  by  one  of  his  ad- 
herents. 

And  we  do  not  know  whether  the  fig- 
urative  lesson  ought  not  to  be  consider- 
ed  as  going  beyond  the  verbal.      What 
the  Savior  had  spoken  of,  and  what  He 
had  enjoined,  was   simply  the  bearing 
the   cross — the  performing   duties,  and 
the  submitting  to  endurances,  from  which 
nature  might  be  averse,  but  which  were 
appointed  unto  those  who  would   gain 
eternal  life.     He  had  not  spoken  of  his 
own  cross  as    that  which   his  disciples 
were  to  carry  :  but  now,  before  He  de- 
parts from  the  world,  He  would  teach 
them  that  they  must  not  only  bear  some 
cross   or   another  if  they  would  follow 
Him  to  glory,  but  that  very  cross  which 
He  carried  Himself.     And  it  may  be  in 
reference  to  this,  to  the  sameness  of  the 
cross  borne  by  the  Master  and  the  dis- 
ciples, that  St.  Paul  uses  a  very  remark- 
able expression  in  writing  to  the  Colos- 
sians  :   "  I  fill  up  that  which  is  behind  of 
the  afflictions  of  Christ  in  my  flesh  for 
his  body's  sake,  which  isithe  Church." 
There  was  no  deficiency  in  the  afflictions 
of  Christ,  so  far  as  they  were  propitia- 
tory ;   and  if  there  had  been,  no  Apostle, 
and  no  company  of  Apostles,  could  have 
filled  up  that  which   was  behind.     Yet 
this  is  what  St.  Paul  represents  himself 
as  doing ;   and  we  can  only  understand 
him    as    speaking  of  his  afflictions,    as 
arising  from  the  same  causes,  and  endured 
for  the  same  ends,  as  those  of  the  Re- 
deemer, and  moreover  as  necessary  to 
the  Church — not  indeed  in  the  sense  of 
expiating  its  guilt,  but  in  that  of  being 
instrumental  to  the  adding  to  its  num- 
bers.     St.  Paul,  like  Christ,  was  perse- 
cuted   for    righteousness'     sake  :     like 
Christ,  he  submitted  to  persecution,  for 
the  purpose  of  benefiting  others  ;  there- 
fore his  sufferings  might  be  spoken  of 
as    a   part  of  that    aggregate  of  woe, 
which    had  to  be  sustained  in  order  to 
the  salvation  of  the  body,  the  Church. 
So  that  the  representation  of  the  Apos- 


tle in  regard  of  himself,  is  precisely  that 
which  we  raiffht  draw  from  Christ's  last 
instance  of  symbolical  teaching — the 
disciple  bore  the  cross  which  his  master 
had  borne  ;  even  as  that  laid  upon  Si- 
mon, had  been  carried  by  Christ. 

Let  not  the  symbolical  lesson  be  hasti- 
ly dismissed,  as  though  it  were  not  im- 
portant enough  to  be  carefully  ponder- 
ed, or  as  though  we  were  too  familiar 
with  it  to  require  that  it  be  often  re- 
peated. There  is  no  greater  mistake 
than  that  which  would  represent  it  as  an 
easy  thing  to  attain  eternal  life.  Just 
because  Christianity  is  the  revelation  of 
a  free  pardon  to  transgressors,  the  an- 
nouncement of  a  wondrous  interposition 
of  Deity  on  our  behalf — an  interposi- 
tion through  which  there  has  been  pro- 
vided for  the  guilty,  without  money  and 
without  price,  whatsoever  is  required  to 
their  full  justification — therefore  is  it 
surmised  that  there  is  little,  if  any  thing, 
for  the  guilty  to  do  ;  and  that  salvation 
asks  no  effort,  seeing  that  confessedly 
no  effort  could  deserve  it.  But  again 
and  again  must  the  protest  be  delivered 
against  a  theory  so  opposed  to  the  Gos- 
pel, and  so  fatal  to  the  soul.  There  are 
such  things  as  conditions  of  salvation  ; 
it  is  not  legalizing,  it  is  not  frustrating 

O  O7  o 

the  grace  of  God,  to  assert  and  insist  on 
conditions  of  salvation.  Salvation  is  a 
free  gift  :  let  the  tongue  cleave  to  the 
roof  of  the  mouth,  rather  than  give  ut- 
terance to  a  syllable  which  shall  seem  to 
impeach  the  freeness  of  the  gift.  But 
the  gift  is  bestowed  only  iipon  those 
who  "  by  patient  continuance  in  well- 
doing seek  for  glorv,  honor,  and  immor- 
tality."  Since  it  is  still  a  gift,  it  cannot 
be  the  "patient  continuance"  which 
procures  it :  for  then  it  would  be  debt, 
and  no  longer  gift.  The  "  patient  con- 
tinuance "  however  is  lequired  of  all 
who  hope  for  the  gift,  required  as  a  con- 
dition, a  condition  without  which  God 
does  not  please  to  bestow,  but  which,  in 
no  degree  whatsoever,  obliges  Him  to 
bestow,  and  which  therefore,  when  most 
rigidly  performed,  takes  not  one  tittle 
away  from  the  unlimited  freeness  of  the 
gift.  And  thus  with  all  its  gratuitous- 
ness, with  all  its  assertion  of  human  in- 
sufficiency, and  all  its  proffers  of  for- 
giveness and  righteousness,  the  Gospel 
lays  an  unceasing  demand  on  every 
energy,  requiring  of  us  that  we  "  work 
out  with  fear  and  trembling,"  that  salva- 


96 


SIMON   THE  CYRENIAN. 


tion  for  ourselves,  which  we  thankfully 
confess  to  have  been  wrought  out  for  us 
by  Christ. 

In  short,  the  bearing  the  cross  is  re- 
vealed as  the  indispensable  prerequisite 
to  the  wearing  the  crown.  And  the 
memorable  thing  is,  that  it  is  Christ's 
cross  which  must  be  borne.  You  are 
not  to  think  that  every  cross  is  the  cross 
which  the  Savior  requires  you  to  take 
up.  Many  a  cross  is  of  our  own  manu- 
facture :  our  troubles  are  often  but  the 
consequences  of  our  sins,  and  we  may 
not  dignify  these  by  supposing  them  the 
cross  which  is  to  distinguish"  the  Chris- 
tian.  Crosses  they  may  be  ;  but  they 
are  not  the  cross  which  was  laid  upon 
Simon,  and  which  had  first  been  on 
Christ.  The  cross  of  Christ  is  endur- 
ance for  the  glory  of  God,  and  the  fur- 
therance of  the  Gospel :  "  this  is  thank- 
worthy." saith  St.  Peter,  "  if  a  man  for 
conscience  toward  God  endure  grief, 
suffering  wrongfully."  It  is  something 
more  than  self-denial,  though  frequently 
spoken  of  as  though  it  were  the  same  ; 
for  our  Lord  distinguishes  them  when 
He  says,  in  words  already  quoted,  "  If 
any  man  will  come  after  me,  let  him 
deny  himself,  and  take  up  his  cross,  and 
follow  me."  We  read  of  the  Apostles 
of  Christ,  that  they  rejoiced  that  "  they 
were  counted  worthy  to  suffer  shame 
for  his  name," — and  this  was  both  bear- 
ing his  cross,  and  feeling  it  an  honor  to 
bear  it.  So  that  he  alone  bears  Christ's 
cross  who  suffers  in  his  cause,  who  has 
troubles  to  endure  simply  because  he  is 
a  Christian. 

And  be  yre  thoroughly  assured,  that 
"  the  offence  of  the  cross "  has  not 
ceased.  He  who  glories  in  the  cross 
of  Christ,  will  certainly  find  that  cross 
laid  upon  himself.  He  cannot  separate 
from  the  world  without  incurring  the 
frown  and  derision  of  the  world  ;  and 
these  are  but  the  modern  forms  of  per- 
secution, less  virulent  indeed  than  the 
ancient,  but  often  to  the  full  as  galling: 
and  oppressive.  And  if  there  be  one  of 
you  who  is  not  aware  that  he  has  a  ci'oss 
of  this  kind  to  carry,  that  religion  ex- 
poses him  to  any  measure  of  obloquy, 
contempt  or  opposition,  let  him  rather 
fear  that  he  is  not  a  real  Christian,  than 
question  whether  Christ's  cross  have 
indeed  been  transferred  to  his  disciples. 
You  may  not  have  the  cross  :  but  it 
should  suggest  to  you  the  inquiry,  Can 


I  be  a  disciple  1  And  further,  let  the 
followers  of  Christ  learn,  that  nothing 
whatsoever  is  to  be  gained  by  those 
compromises  which  may  be  made  with 
the  hope  of  conciliating  the  world.  If 
you  truly  belong  to  Christ,  you  must 
bear  the  frown  of  the  world  ;  and  all 
that  you  will  get  by  evading,  or  trying 
to  disarm  it,  is,  that  when  it  comes,  as 
come  it  must,  it  will  be  all  the  severer 
for  having  been  shunned.  Where  had 
Simon  the  Cyrenian  been,  whilst  Christ 
was  enduring  shame  and  indignity1? 
Not  in  Jerusalem  :  he  was  met,  as  St. 
Mark  states,  "  coming  out  of  the  coun- 
try." Supposing  him  a  disciple,  he 
ought  to  have  remained  with  Christ  in 
his  hour  of  danger :  but  he  had  proba- 
bly gone  out  of  the  way,  wishing  to  let 
the  storm  blow  over  before  he  showed 
himself  in  the  city  :  and  now  he  may 
have  been  returning,  calculating  that 
the  worst  was  past,  and  that  no  harm 
could  happen  to  him  from  his  reputed 
adherence  to  Christ.  This  was  declin- 
ing the  cross ;  and  the  short-sighted 
policy  met  a  full  retribution.  He  is 
compelled  to  bear  the  cross.  The  sol- 
diers seize  him,  the  multitude  scoff  him  ; 
and  he  has  perhaps  a  thousandfold  more 
to  sustain  than  had  he  not  thought  to 
ward  off,  by  a  cowardly  absence,  what  in 
one  form  or  another  a  Christian  must  bear, 
or  be  a  Christian  in  nothing  but  name. 

Be  ye  certain,  then,  not  only  that,  if 
Christians,  you  must  carry  Christ's 
cross,  but  that  you  make  it  all  the  heavi- 
er by  avoiding  it  when  it  lies  in  the  clear 
path  of  duty.  There  is  no  such  way 
of  incurring  shame  as  the  being  asham- 
ed of  Christ.  For  if  you  be  not  left,  in 
just  judgment  on  your  cowardice  and 
desertion,  to  harden  into  mere  nominal 
disciples,  of  whom  Christ  will  be  asham- 
ed when  He  cometh  with  his  angels,  you 
may  be  sure  that  you  shall  be  punished 
with  an  aggravated  measure  of  the  very 
contempt  which  you  have  thought  to 
avoid.  Even  the  world  respects  con- 
sistency ;  and  its  bitterest  scorn  is  for 
those  who  have  tried  to  disarm  it  by 
concealing,  if  not  abjuring,  their  princi- 
ples. Simon  might  have  remained  in 
Jerusalem,  and  then  have  followed 
Christ  to  Calvary  with  but  little  observa- 
tion :  but  forasmuch  as  he  is  met,  "  com- 
ing out  of  the  country,"  he  shall  be  the 
sport  of  the  rabble,  a  mark  for  universal 
ridicule  and  scorn. 


SIMON  THE  CYRENIANF. 


9T 


And  yet  even  in  his  case,  there  is  one 
other  particular  which  should  be  noted 
for  the  comfort  of  the  Church.  The 
cross  was  carried  by  Christ,  before  it 
was  carried  by  Simon.  The  arrange- 
ment might  have  been  different  :  the 
disciple  might  have  borne  the  burden 
the  first  part  of  the  way,  and  then  it 
might  have  been  laid  on  the  Master. 
But  our  comfort  is,  that  the  cross  which 
we  must  carry  has  been  already  carried 
by  Christ,  and  therefore,  like  the  grave 
which  He  entered,  been  stripped  of  its 
hatefulness.  It  might  almost  be  said  to 
have  changed  its  nature  through  beinf 
laid  on  the  Son  of  God  :  it  left  behind 
it  its  terribleness,  its  oppressiveness  : 
and  now,  as  transferred  to  the  disciple, 
it  is  indeed  a  cross,  but  across  which  it 
is  a  privilege  to  bear,  a  cross  which  God 
never  fails  to  give  strength  to  bear,  a 
cross,  which,  as  leading  to  a  crown,  may 
justly  be  prized,  so  that  we  would  not 
have  it  off  our  shoulders,  till  the  diadem 
is  on  our  brow.  "  If  ye  be  reproached 
for  the  name  of  Christ" — and  this  is 
the  cross — "  happy  are  ye  ;  for  the 
Spirit  of  glory  and  of  God  resteth  upon 
you."  O  see  ye  not,  then,  how  eloquent 
and  comprehensive  a  homily  was  deliv- 
ered through  the  simple  incident  re- 
lated in  our  text  1  It  is  one  of  Christ's 
last  and  most  impressive  sermons.  He 
would  not  leave  the  world  without  fur- 
nishing a  standing  memorial,  that  his 
disciples  must  bear  the  same  cross  as 
Himself,  inasmuch  as,  like  Himself,  they 
must  endure  the  world's  hatred  as 
champions  and  examples  of  truth.  And 
together  with  this  memorial  He  would 
show,  by  a  powerful  instance,  that,  in 
religion,  a  temporizing  policy  is  sure  to 
defeat  itself,  so  that  to  fly  from  the 
cross  is  commonly  to  meet  it,  dilated  in 
size,  and  heavier  in  material.  But  He 
had  one  more  truth  to  represent  at  the 
same  time — the  beautiful  comforting 
truth,  that  He  has  borne  what  his  fol- 
lowers have  to  bear,  and  thereby  so 
lightened  it,  that,  as  with  death,  which 
He  made  sleep  to  the  believer,  the  bur- 
den but  quickens  the  step  towards  the 
"  exceeding  and  eternal  weight  of 
glory."  And  that  He  might  effect  and 
convey  all  this  through  one  great  signifi- 
cant action,  it  was  ordered,  we  may  be- 
lieve, that,  as  they  led  away  Jesus,  car- 
rying like  Isaac  the  wood  for  the  burnt- 
offering,   the   soldiers  laid  hold  on  one 


Simon,  a  Cyrenian,  coming  out  of  the 
country,  and  him  they  compelled  to  bear 
his  cross. 

And  is  this  all  that  was  typically  re- 
presented by  the  laying  of  the  cross  on 
Simon  the  Cyrenian  1  Indeed  we  ought 
never  to  press  a  type  too  far  :  it  is  easy, 
by  indulging  the  imagination,  to  injure 
or  bring  into  discredit  the  whole  of  the 
figurative  lesson.  Yet  there  is  one 
thing  more  which  we  would  venture  to 
advance,  though  we  may  not  speak  with 
the  same  confidence  as  when  asserting 
that  Christ  taught  by  action,  as  He  had 
before  taught  by  word,  that  his  disciples 
must  suffer  with  Him,  if  they  ever  hope 
to  reign.  We  have  already  mentioned 
our  inability  to  ascertain  any  particulars 
respecting  Simon,  or  even  to  determine 
whether  he  were  a  Jew  or  a  Pagan. 
Many  of  the  ancient  fathers  suppose 
him  to  have  been  a  Pagan,  and  consider 
that,  in  being  made  to  bear  the  cross 
after  Christ,  He  typified  the  conversion 
of  idolatrous  nations  which  either  have 
been  or  will  be  brought  to  a  profession 
of  faith  in  our  Lord.  And  there  are  no 
such  reasons  against  this  opinion  as  can 
require  its  rejection,  nor  such  even  as 
can  show  that  the  weight  of  probability 
is  on  the  opposite  side.  We  must  be 
therefore  at  liberty  to  entertain  the 
opinion,  and,  at  least,  to  point  out  the 
inferences  which  would  follow  on  sup- 
position of  its  truth. 

But  once  let  it  be  considered  that  Si- 
mon was  a  Pagan,  and  our  text  becomes 
one  of  those  bright,  prophetic  lines 
which  shoot  through  centuries  of  gloom, 
giving  promise  of  a  morning,  if  they  can- 
not scatter  night.  It  is  not  the  single 
fact  of  his  having  been  a  heathen  on 
which  we  would  now  fasten  :  for  there 
are  scriptural  assertions  in  abundance, 
that  the  heathen  have  been  given  to 
Christ  for  an  inheritance,  and  that  all  the 
ends  of  the  earth  shall  yet  look  to  Him 
as  a  Savior;  so  that  if  the  laying  of  the 
cross  upon  Simon  merely  intimated  pro- 
phetically the  conversion  of  the  Gentiles, 
it  would  be  but  one  in  a  series  of  predic- 
tions, and  might  not  claim  any  special 
attention.  But  Simon  was  a  Cyrenian — 
this  is  carefully  noted  by  each  of  the 
three  evangelists — and  Cyrene,  as  we 
mentioned  in  commencing  our  discourse, 
was  a  city  and  province  of  Africa.  Then 
it  was  on  an  African  that  the  cross  was 
laid — on  an  inhabitant,  a  native  of  that 

6 


98 


SIMON  THE  CYRENIAN. 


country  which,  from  the  earliest  days, 
has  been  burdened  with  a  curse  ;  the 
malediction  pronounced  upon  Ham,  "  a 
servant  of  servants  shall  he  be  unto  his 
brethren,"  having  been  fearfully  exacted, 
so  that  those  sprung  from  the  second  son 
of  Noah  have,  all  along,  been  ground 
down  and  trampled  on  by  the  descend- 
ants of  the  other  two. 

Africa — the  very  name  is  sufficient  to 
call  up  a  blush,  wheresoever  there  are 
the  feelings  of  a  man.  The  wrongs  of 
the  negro  fill  perhaps  the  darkest  page 
in  the  history  of  our  race.  But  whilst 
those  who  have  oppressed  the  Africans 
have  been  just  as  criminal  as  though  the 
oppression  had  not  been  distinctly  pre- 
dicted, it  is  vain  to  shut  our  eyes  to 
the  fact,  that  the  period  has  not  yet 
closed  during  which,  by  Divine  appoint- 
ment, this  tribe  of  human  kind  is  to  be 
injured  and  enslaved.  Those  philan- 
thropic individuals  acted  nobly  and  well, 
who  fought  in  this  country  the  battle  of 
the  slave,  and  would  not  rest  till  the 
seriate  branded  and  proscribed  the  traf- 
fic in  human  sinew  and  bone.  And  our 
country  did  gloriously  when  she  threw 
down  her  millions  as  a  ransom,  resolv- 
ing to  extinguish  slavery  in  her  colonies, 
but  to  maintain,  at  the  same  time,  good 
faith  and  justice.  We  speak  of  all  this 
as  noble  and  excellent,  because  we  be- 
lieve it  to  have  been  our  duty  as  Chris- 
tians to  set  ourselves  against  slavery  as 
hostile  to  the  spirit  of  the  Gospel,  and 
to  attempt  this  duty  at  all  costs,  and, 
what  is  more,  all  risks.  But  if  we  were 
to  argue  from  consequences,  in  place  of 
from  principles,  we  might  almost  hesi- 
tate to  rejoice  that  the  attack  upon  slav- 
ery had  ever  been  made.  Notwithstand- 
ing all  that  has  been  done  for  Africa, 
Africa,  alas  !  is  as  wretched  as  ever,  as 
much  rifled  of  her  children,  as  though 
the  ancestral  curse  were  not  yet  worn 
out,  and,  whilst  it  were  in  force,  the  ef- 
fort to  benefit  could  only  work  injury. 
But  is  this  to  continue  ]  Undoubted- 
ly not, — for  every  prophecy  which  as- 
serts the  universal  diffusion  of  Chris- 
tianity must  be  considered  as  announc- 
ing a  time  when  the  wrongs  of  Africa 
shall  terminate,  and  her  tortured  chil- 
dren enter  into  the  liberty  of  the  sons  of 
God. 

But  where  there  is  special  wretched- 
ness one  seems  to  ci-ave  a  special  pro- 
phecy.    It  is  such  a  trial  of  faith  to  find 


that  we  seem  unable  to  do  anything  for 
Africa,  her  vast  deserts  being  still  the 
grave  of  all  who  would  explore  them, 
and  the  bondage  of  her  children  only 
growing  writh  efforts  for  their  emancipa- 
tion, that  we  long  for  specific  predic- 
tions, assuring  us  that  Africa  is  not  ex- 
cluded from  the  promised  glory,  but  will 
throw  off  every  shackle,  whether  of  the 
mind  or  the  body.  There  are  such  pre- 
dictions. "  Princes  shall  come  out  of 
Egypt ;  the  Morian's  land  shall  soon 
stretch  out  her  hands  unto  God."  "  Be- 
hold, Philistia  and  Tyre,  with  Ethiopia  ; 
this  man  was  born,  there."  "  The  labor 
of  Egypt,  and  merchandize  of  Ethiopia 
and  of  the  Sabeans,  men  of  stature,  shall 
come  over  unto  thee,  and  they  shall  be 
thine."  I  rejoice  in  prophecies  which 
tell  of  blessings  for  Ethiopia.  I  remem- 
ber the  question,  "  Can  the  Ethiopian 
change  his  skin  1"  and  I  feel  that  these 
prophecies  belong  to  the  negro.  When 
the  eunuch  of  Candace,  queen  of  the 
Ethiopians,  goes  on  his  way  rejoicing 
because  believing  in  Jesus,  I  seem  to 
have  a  pledge  of  mercy  in  store  for  the 
negro.  But  all  this  hardly  comes  up  to 
the  measure  of  the  case.  O  for  an  am- 
pler prophecy,  a  more  express  type. 
There  is  scarce  enough  in  such  passing 
intimations  as  these,  to  sustain  the  faith 
which  is  staggered  by  the  increasing 
wretchedness  of  Africa,  and  its  undimin- 
ished wickedness.  Then  let  us  go  and 
look  on  the  Redeemer  as  He  toils  to- 
wards Calvary.  Who  is  it  that,  in  the 
ordering  of  Providence,  has  been  ap- 
pointed to  carry  his  cross  1  A  Cyrenian, 
an  African.  I  read  the  prophecy,  I  ap- 
prehend the  type.  Land,  that  hath  long 
been  accursed,  whose  children  have 
verily  been  the  servants  of  servants, 
over  which  has  hung  so  ponderous  a 
gloom,  that  those  most  hopeful  of  im- 
provement in  human  condition  have  al- 
most turned  from  thee  in  despair — bright 
times  await  thee.  Thou  art  not  in  bond- 
age for  ever;  thy  chains  shall  yet  be 
dashed  away  :  the  star  of  Bethlehem, 
the  sun  of  righteousness,  shall  yet  break 
upon  thy  provinces  and  gleam  in  thy 
waters  ;  the  anthem  which  ascribes 
praise,  and  glory,  and  honor  to  the  Lamb 
that  was  slain,  shall  float  through  thy 
forests,  and  be  echoed  by  thy  mountains. 
Not  without  a  meaning  was  one  of  thy 
sons  selected  to  bear  the  cros3  after 
Christ,  and  thus  to  fill  a  post  to  which 


THE  POWER  OF   THE  EYE. 


99 


the  martyrs  and  confessors  of  every  age 
of  Christianity  have  counted  it  their 
highest  honor  to  succeed.  It  was  as 
though  to  tell  us  that  even  Africa  shall 
yet  be  brought  to  the  discipleship  of 
Jesus.  Europe  gave  not  this  type  of 
the  Gentile  world  submitting  itself  to 
Christ.  Asia  was  not  permitted  to  own 
the  favored  individual.  America,  as  yet 
unknown  to  the  rest  of  the  earth,  might 
not  send  the  representative  of  heathen- 


ism. Africa  is  the  privileged  country ; 
an  African  follows  Jesus — oh,  the  dark- 
ness of  many  generations  seems  scatter- 
ed ;  and  I  rejoice  in  the  assurance  that 
the  land  of  slaves  shall  be  the  home  of 
freedom,  the  land  of  misery  the  home  ot 
happiness,  the  land  of  idolatry  the  home 
of  Christianity,  when  I  observe  that  it 
was  one  Simon,  a  Cyrenian,  whom  the 
soldiers  seized  and  constrained  to  bear 
the  cross  after  Christ. 


SERMON    XII. 


THE  POWER  OF  THE  EYE. 


"  I  will  instruct  thee  and  teacli  thee  in  the  way  which  thou  shalt  go:  I  will  guide  thee  with  mine  eye.  Be  ye  not  as 
the  horse  or  as  the  mule,  which  have  no  understanding,  whose  mouth  must  be  held  in  with  bit  and  bridle,  lest  they 
come  near  unto  thee." — Psalm  xsxii.  8,  9. 


There  may  be  some  debate  as  to  who 
should  be  considered  the  speaker  of 
these  words,  whether  the  Psalmist  or 
God  Himself.  You  must  often  have 
observed  in  reading  the  Psalms,  what  a 
frequent  change  of  persons  there  is,  so 
that  the  sacred  hymn  has  all  the  appear- 
ance of  a  conversation,  carried  on  be- 
tween various  though  undefined  parties. 
And  you  should  bear  in  mind,  that  the 
Psalms,  having  been  composed  for  pub- 
lic worship,  were  used  in  services  con- 
ducted by  numerous  ministers  or  per- 
formers :  a  voice  from  one  side  of  the 
temple  wakened  a  voice  from  another  : 
chorus  replied  to  chorus  ;  and  occasion- 
ally a  single  low  strain  was  heard,  as 
from  the  recesses  of  the  sanctuary,  breath- 
ing" words  which  were  listened  to  as  from 
the  oracle  of  God.  It  often  surprising- 
ly helps  the  interpretation  of  the  Psalms, 
to  observe  the  change  of  speakers,  and 
to  endeavor  to  determine  who  may  have 
been  personified  by  one,  and  who  by 
another.    Bishop  Korslcy,  ill  his  transla- 


tion and  arrangement  of  these  beautiful 
hymns,  has  divided  each  into  parts,  and 
assigned  to  each  part  its  speaker ;  and 
if  you  cannot,  in  every  case,  see  the  pro- 
priety of  the  division  which  he  makes, 
you  will  yet  in  most  find  that  division 
itself  an  admirable  commentary  on  the 
hymn,  the  appropriation  of  the  stanzas 
removing  much  obscurity,  and  elucidat- 
ing the  meaning'. 

In  the  instance  of  our  text,  the  learn- 
ed prelate  supposes  the  first  verse  to 
proceed  from  the  oracular  voice  which 
pronounced  those  parts  of  a  psalm  which 
were  to  be  taken  as  spoken  in  God's 
name ;  the  second  he  considers  as  the 
utterance  of  the  Psalmist,  addressing 
himself  to  the  by-standers,  who  had 
heard  this  oracular  voice.  We  do  not 
know  that  it  materially  affects  the  force 
and  beauty  of  the  passage,  whether  we 
regard  it  as  thus  spoken  partly  by  God 
and  partly  by  David,  or  whether  we 
consider  it  as  proceeding  wholly  from 
either   of  the    two.     But   perhaps    the 


100 


THE  POWER  OF  THE  EYE. 


bishop's  supposition  accords  best  with 
the  character  of  the  verses  themselves; 
and  we  shall  therefore  adopt  it,  so  far 
as  we  may  have  occasion,  in  illustrating 
what  is  spoken,  to  make  a  reference  to 
the  speaker. 

It  is  God,  then,  who  may  be  consider- 
ed as  saying,  whether  to  the  Psalmist 
individually,  or  to  every  child  of  our 
race,  "  I  will  instruct  thee  and  teach 
thee  in  the  way  which  thou  shalt  go  ;  I 
will  guide  thee  with  mine  eye."  There 
is  here  the  promise  of  direction  and  pro- 
tection, but  a  promise,  as  you  will  all 
see,  whose  fulfilment  can  take  place  only 
to  the  watchful  and  the  meek.  If  there 
is  to  be  instruction  and  teaching  on  the 
part  of  God,  theremust  be  a  hearkening 
and  an  attentiveness  on  the  part  of  man  : 
the  relation  supposed  is  that  between  a 
preceptor  and  a  scholar :  and  it  is  not 
enough  that  the  preceptor  be  willing  to 
impart  knowledge,  it  is  further  required 
that  the  scholar  be  ready  to  receive  it. 
And  that  a  teachable  disposition  is  sup- 
posed in  those  who  are  addressed  by  the 
oracular  voice,  you  will  further  infer 
from  the  remainder  of  the  utterance, 
"  I  will  guide  thee  with  mine  eye."  We 
shall,  as  we  proceed,  lay  great  stress  on 
this  expression  ;  it  is  a  very  singular  one, 
and  deserves  the  being  most  closely 
considered.  At  present  it  will  be  suffi- 
cient to  observe  to  you,  that  if  God  is  to 
guide  us  with  his  eye,  to  guide  us,  as  it 
were,  by  a  look,  it  is  evident  that  there 
must  be  a  watchfulness  on  our  own  part ; 
the  voice  of  God  might  force  attention, 
compelling  even  the  careless  to  receive 
certain  directions,  but  manifestly  the  eye 
of  God  carl  guide  none  but  those  who  are 
diligently  observing  the  lightest  indica- 
tions of  his  will.  Hence,  as  we  said  before, 
whatsoever  there  be  of  gracious  promise 
in  the  oracular  utterance,  is  addressed  to 
those  only  who  possess  and  exercise  a 
certain  disposition,  a  disposition  to  re- 
ceive and  be  on  the  watch  for  instruc- 
tion. God  does  not  promise  that  He 
will  guide  those  who  give  no  heed  to 
quiet  suggestions  and  gentle  intimations, 
but  those  alone  who  are  hearkening  for 
instruction,  and  for  whom  a  glance  is 
sufficient. 

And  this  being  the  scope  and  bearing 
of  the  words  from  the  oracle,  you  will 
enter  readily  into  the  meaning  of  the 
following  verse,  considered  as  the  ad- 
dress  or  advice  of  the  Psalmist   to  the 


by-standers,  who  are  supposed  to  have 
been  hearkening  to  the  heavenly  pro- 
mise. A  certain  disposition  had  been 
described  as  essential  to  all  who  would 
have  God  for  their  leader  :  at  least,  if 
not  explicitly  described,  it  had  been 
sufficiently  intimated  to  be  known  by 
every  hearer.  The  Psalmist,  therefore 
takes  occasion  to  deliver  a  warning 
against  the  opposite  disposition — a  dis- 
position to  yield  only  to  harsh  measures 
and  severe  discipline.  "  Be  ye  not  as 
the  horse,  or  as  the  mule,  which  have 
no  understanding,  whose  mouth  must  be 
held  in  with  bit  and  bridle."  You  see 
that  a  contrast  is  intended  between  those 
who  could  be  guided  by  the  eye,  and 
those  who  required  the  bit  and  the 
bridle.  It  is  as  much  as  to  say,  you 
have  heard  who  those  are  who  may  ex- 
pect the  great  privilege  of  being  led  by 
the  Almighty,  even  such  as  may  be  said 
to  be  watching  his  countenance,  that 
they  may  catch  from  it  the  least  signs  of 
his  will.  Take  ye  good  heed,  then,  that 
ye  be  not  careless  and  stubborn,  resem- 
bling those  beasts  who  need  the  rein 
and  the  muzzle,  and  whom  nothing  but 
actual  force  will  keep  in  the  right  path, 
or  prevent  from  doing  mischief.  If  the 
promise  of  God  be  to  those  who  are  ob- 
servant of  his  eye,  what  must  their  con- 
dition be,  who  care  for  nothing  but  his 
scourge  1 

Here,  then,  we  have  before  us  a  very 
interesting  subject  of  discourse,  in  the 
opposite  dispositions  delineated  by  our 
text.  We  have  said  enough  to  put  you 
in  possession  of  the  general  idea,  and 
we  may  now  proceed  to  illustrations 
and  inferences.  We  shall  naturally  ar- 
range what  we  have  to  advance  under 
the  divisions  suggested  by  the  verses 
themselves.  In  the  first  place,  we  have 
to  examine  what  may  be  gathered  from 
the  saying,  "  I  will  guide  thee  with 
mine  eye  :  "  in  the  second  place,  we 
have  to  consider  what  force  this  saying 
gives  to  the  exhortation,  "  Be  ye  not  as 
the  horse,  or  as  the  mule." 

Now  you  will  have  already  undei-- 
stood,  that  we  regard  guidance  with  the 
eye  as  proving  great  attentiveness  in 
the  party  who  is  led,  great  anxiety  to 
catch  the  wishes  of  the  being  who  guides, 
and  great  readiness  in  obeying  the 
lightest  intimations  of  his  will.  We 
know  very  well  that  with  a  thoroughly 
obedient  and  affectionate  child  a  look  is 


THE   POWER  OF  THE   EYE. 


101 


sufficient  :  lie  will  not  wait  till  the  pa- 
rent issue  an  actual  prohibition,  or  im- 
pose an  absolute  command  ;  he  will  take 
direction  from  a  turn  of  the  countenance, 
from  a  gesture,  from  a  movement  ;  and 
where  be  can  do  little  more  than  guess 
what  will  be  most  acceptable,  he  will 
act  on  what  is  likely,  rather  than  excuse 
himself  by  the  want  of  more  distinct  in- 
formation. And  such  a  disposition  it 
would  appear  to  be,  of  which  God  in 
our  text  intimates  his  approval  :  the 
party  whom  He  can  lead  with  his  eye, 
must  be  one  who  does  not  in  every  case 
demand  express  categorical  instructions, 
but  who,  in  the  absence  of  these,  will 
search  out  the  slightest  hints,  the  brief- 
est intimations,  and  act  carefully  on 
what  is  probable,  where  there  is  nothing 
certain  to  direct  him.  We  are  inclined 
to  think,  for  example,  that  much  of  the 
Bible,  or  at  least  of  the  New  Testament, 
is  constructed  on  the  principle  that  it  is 
with  his  eye  that  God  would  guide  his 
Church,  truths  being  often  intimated 
rather  than  affirmed,  left  to  be  detected 
by  an  ever-watchful  student,  though  not 
exposed  to  every  cursory  observer.  And 
more  than  this — for  the  guidance  of  the 
eye  may  be  yet  more  subtile  and  deli- 
cate— it  may  be  that  Scripture  puts  the 
probabilities  on  the  side  of  a  certain  te- 
net or  practice,  when  it  cannot  be  affirm- 
ed that  it  places  it  beyond  controversy ; 
and  if  such  a  case  occur,  we  suppose 
that  those  who  are  guided  by  the  eye, 
will  incline  to  the  holding  the  tenet,  or 
the  adopting  the  practice,  though  they 
cannot  plead  express  and  positive  com- 
mand. The  child  may  receiva  a  letter 
from  his  parent,  containing  express  di- 
rections as  to  certain  points  on  which  he 
.needs  teaching,  but  nothing  very  defi- 
nite as  to  others  on  which  he  is  in  doubt. 
Of  course  he  will  not  hesitate  in  regard 
of  the  first ;  he  has  there  more  than  the 
guidance  of  the  eye  :  and  no  excuse  can 
be  invented  for  his  swerving  from  the 
will  of  his  parent.  But  in  regard  of  the 
last,  the  points  on  which  the  parent  has 
given  no  express  directions,  there  are 
two  courses  which  he  may  pursue  :  he 
may  refuse  to  act  at  all,  unless  he  be 
furnished  with  explicit  commands  :  or 
he  may  read  the  letter  again  and  again, 
marking  every  turn  of  expression,  and 
weighing  word  against  word,  anxious  to 
see  whether  the  mind  of  the  parent  may 
not  be  gathered  from  incidental  notices, 


or  whether  there  he  not  reason  to  con- 
clude that  one  course  would  be  more 
agreeable  to  him  than  another.  We 
should  pronounce  the  child  who  acted 
in  the  latter  manner,  as  distinguished 
from  one  who  acted  in  the  former,  ready 
to  be  led  by  the  eye  as  well  as  by  the 
tongue  ;  he  is  endeavorin"',  in  the  ab- 
sence  of  words,  to  catch  the  looks  oi 
his  father ;  and  you  will  all  admit  that 
he  hereby  shows  an  amiableness  and  a 
warmth  of  affection  which  ought  to  se- 
cure for  him  a  larger  measure  of  parental 
regard. 

Let  us  consider  whether  nothing  of 
the  like  kind  may  be  said  in  respect  of 
that  letter,  the  Bible,  which  our  heaven- 
ly Parent  has  written  to  the  Church. 
On  far  the  greater  number  of  points  on 
which  we  require  direction,  the  letter  is 
so  explicit  and  distinct,  that  if  we  re- 
main ignorant  or  mistaken,  it  can  only 
be  through  our  own  ignorance  or  wil- 
fulness.  And  in  respect  of  these,  it  is 
not  to  be  said  that  God  guides  us  with 
his  eye  :  the  instructions  are  express, 
written  down  and  spoken  so  as  to  be 
known  and  read  of  all.  But  there  are 
other  points  on  which  it  would  be  quite 
idle  to  assert  this  explicitness  of  direc- 
tion, but  on  which  nevertheless  there 
may  be  passing  intimations,  such  as  an 
affectionate  observation  will  note,  and  a 
devoted  obedience  will  follow.  There 
may  be  material  from  which  to  infer 
which  of  two  courses  is  the  more  likely 
to  be  acceptable  to  God,  even  where 
there  is  not  enough  for  our  fixing  with 
certainty  ;  and  we  should  say  that  the 
man  who  acted  on  the  likelihood,  where 
he  could  not  get  the  certainty,  would  de- 
serve to  be  spoken  of  as  guided  by  the 
eye,  when  he  could  not  hear  the  voice. 
An  instance  is  furnished,  we  think,  in 
the  matter  of  the  baptism  of  infants. 
There  can  be  no  debate  amongst  those 
who  are  willing  to  take  Scripture  in  its 
plain  unvarnished  sense,  that  baptism  is 
the  appointed  rile  of  initiation  into  the 
Church  of  the  Redeemer.  Our  Lord's 
directions  on  this  matter  are  so  strong 
and  distinct,  that  we  cannot  be  said  to 
be  guided  merely  by  his  eye,  when  we 
administer  baptism  in  the  name  of  the 
Father,  and  of  the  Son,  and  of  the  Holy 
Ghost.  But  when  we  come  to  the  ques- 
tion as  to  what  parties  may  be  duly 
made  the  subjects  of  this  sacrament,  we 
can  no  longer  plead  express  and  unequi- 


102 


THE  POWER  OF  THE   EYE. 


vocal  direction.  Of  course,  those  who  are 
of  ripe  age,  and  make  satisfactoi-y  con- 
fession of  faith,  must  on  all  hands  be 
regarded  as  fit  to  be  sprinkled  with  the 
regenerating  waters.  But  what  is  to  be 
said  of  children,  too  young  themselves 
to  know  anything  of  Christianity,  and 
who,  if  they  profess  faith  at  all,  must  do 
it  by  the  mouths  of  parents  or  sponsors  1 
You  are  aware  that  this  has  been  a 
much  litigated  question  :  and  though  we 
of  the  Established  Church  enjoin  the 
baptism  of  infants  as  "  most  agreeable 
with  the  institution  of  Christ."  we  do 
not  profess  to  say  that  it  is  distinctly 
prescribed  in  the  Bible.  But  perhaps 
there  is  the  guidance  of  the  eye,  even 
if  there  be  nothing  more  distinct. 
There  may  be  some  intimations  from 
which  to  infer  what  will  be  most  pleas- 
ing to  Christ ;  and  it  will  be  the  part  of 
the  affectionate  and  obedient  to  act  upon 
these.  We  turn,  then,  to  the  New  Tes- 
tament :  we  find  a  very  touching  narra- 
tive of  the  bringing  of  young  children 
to  Jesus,  that  He  might  lay  his  hands 
upon  them  and  bless  them.  The  disci- 
ples rebuked  those  who  brought  them, 
no  doubt  imagining  that  only  adults 
were  fit  subjects  for  their  Master's  bene- 
diction. But  we  are  told  that  when 
Christ  saw  it,  He  was  much  displeased  ; 
He  directed  immediately  that  the  chil- 
dren should  be  brought  to  Him  ;  and 
then — a  circumstance  which  indicates 
that  they  were  very  young,  probably 
quite  infants — "  He  took  them  up  in  his 
arms,  put  his  hands  upon  them  and  bless- 
ed them." 

Now,  we  are  far  enough  from  saying, 
that  this  beautiful  incident  furnishes  de- 
cisive witness  in  favor  of  the  baptism 
of  infants  :  we  have  already  intimated 
that  we  do  not  think  that  such  witness 
is  to  be  found  in  the  Bible.  But  we 
certainly  regard  the  incident  as  showing 
which  of  two  things  is  the  more  likely 
to  be  agreeable  to  Christ  :  baptism  is 
the  instituted  mode  through  which  indi- 
viduals are  brought  to  Him  to  be  bless- 
ed ;  and  if  Ho  have  not  prescribed  the 
age  at  which  this  sacrament  may  be  ad- 
ministered, yet  by  blessing  the  very 
youngest,  whilst  He  sojourned  upon 
earth,  He  may  be  thought  to  have  in- 
dicated that  the  very  youngest  are  wel- 
come, now  that  He  has  entered  into 
heaven.  There  is  no  decisive  argument 
here  for  the  rigid  controversialist,   who 


may  tell  us,  and  tell  us  truly,  that  the 
incident  in  question  has  no  immediate  or 
necessary  connexion  with  baptism  :  but 
there  is  a  very  touching  intimation  to 
the  earnest  lover  of  his  Lord,  who  is 
all  anxiety  to  know  what  is  likely  to 
please  Him  best.  In  the  absence  of  ex- 
press command,  I  may  learn  something 
from  that  look  of  displeasure  which 
Christ  threw  on  those  who  would  have 
kept  infants  from  Him  ;  and  this  we 
call  being  guided  by  the  eye,  where  no 
voice  can  be  heard  ;  and  we  learn  from 
our  text,  that  it  is  by  the  eye,  as  well 
as  by  the  voice,  that  God  would  have 
his  Church  instructed  and  led. 

Neither  is  this  a  solitary  instance  of 
guidance  by  the  eye,  though  we  have 
not  space  to  enlarge  on  any  other.  It  is 
by  the  eye  that  we  are  guided  to  the 
keeping  holy  the  first  day  of  the  week: 
if  you  will  yield  to  nothing  but  a  posi- 
tive command  for  this  observance,  you 
will  not  find  it  in  the  New  Testament ; 
but  if  you  can  take  indirect  intimations, 
if  you  can  act  on  what  we  may  call  the 
looks  of  your  Master,  you  will  have  no 
difficulty  in  confessing  the  obligation  of 
the  Christian  Sabbath. 

We  should  be  inclined  to  advance 
much  the  same  statement  in  respect  of 
Church  government.  We  will  not  say 
that  our  own  ecclesiastical  system, 
though  modelled  after  that  of  the  early 
Church,  is  laid  down  with  such  precision 
in  Scripture,  that  there  cannot  be  de- 
bate as  to  its  correctness  and  authority. 
So  far  as  the  Bible  is  concerned,  it  may 
not  be  by  the  voice  of  God  that  we  are 
directed  to  have  three  orders  in  the  mi- 
nistry, the  bishop,  the  priest,  and  the 
deacon.  But  if  it  be  not  by  the  voice, 
ic  may  be  by  the  eye,  of  God,  that  we 
are  guided  herein.  You  may  not  find 
in  the  New  Testament  such  explicit  di- 
rections in  regard  of  an  ecclesiasti- 
cal constitution  as  leave  no  room  for 
doubt  ;  but  there  may  be — and  we 
thoroughly  feel  that  there  arc — intima- 
tions, and  allusions,  and  hints,  which 
show  a  probability  in  favor  of  that 
constitution  which  we  regard  as  apos- 
tolic :  and  ought  not  this  probability, 
like  the  expression  of  the  countenance 
of  a  well-beloved  friend,  to  determine 
our  conduct  in  the  absence  of  direct 
command,  whether  by  letter  or  speech  ] 

It  is  the  drift  of  all  these  observations 
on  the  indirect  evidence  which  Scripture 


THE  POWER  OF  THE  EYE. 


103 


may  furnish  to  certain  matters,  whether  heaven,  a  letter  in  which  there  may  he 
of  doctrine  or  discipline,  to  put  you  on  hints  as  well  as  commands,  wishes  ob- 
your  guard  against  a  hai-d,  dogmatical  I  scurely  intimated  as  well  as  precepts 
temper,  a  temper  which  will  take  nothing  i  unequivocally  expressed.     Take  it  up  in 


but  on  rigid  demonstration,  and  reject 
probability  where  it  cannot  gain  cer- 
tainty. There  is  a  gi-eat  difference  be- 
tween the  proof  which  may  be  expect- 
ed to  convince  a  mere  reasoner,  and 
that  which  should  suffice  for  the  guid- 
ance of  a  warm-hearted  disciple.  If  the 
child,  to  whose  case  we  have  before  re- 
ferred, were  to  put  his  parent's  letter 
into  the  hands  of  a  stranger,  of  a  shrewd 
man  of  the  world,  who  will  look  at 
nothing  but  its  actual  expressions,  he 
might  be  told  that  there  was  very  little 
in  the  document  to  which  he  could  be 
required  to  attend.  But  the  child  him- 
self, intent  only  on  discovering  the  pa- 
rent's mind,  searches  out  notices  which 
the  stranger  overlooks,  and  of  which, 
when  shown  to  him,  he  declares  that  he 
cannot  see  the  obligation.  It  may  be 
that  the  child  might  be  held  excusable 
in  disregarding:  the  notices,  if  the  matter 
turned  upon  evidence,  and  nothing  were 
binding  which  could  not  be  mathemati- 
cally proved.  But  the  child's  desire  is 
simply  to  do  what  the  parent  will  ap- 
prove ;  and  affection  will  make  him  keen- 


the  spirit  of  love  and  of  simple  anxiety 
to  discover,  that  you  may  obey,  the  will 
of  the  Lord.  Take  it  up,  not  that  you 
may  become  more  accomplished  deba- 
ters, but  more  consistent  disciples  ;  and 
then,  it  may  be,  will  a  hundred  little  gen- 
tle and  delicate  allusions  present  them- 
selves to  your  notice,  home-touches 
which  none  but  a  Father  can  give,  and 
none  but  a  child  can  detect.  Yea,  you 
may  come  to  feel,  as  you  peruse  the  sa- 
cred page,  not  only  as  though  you  were 
hearkening  to  the  voice,  but  as  though 
you  were  studying  the  countenance  of 
your  Creator  and  Redeemer;  and  you 
will  understand  more  and  more  of  the 
beauty  and  power  of  the  promise,  "  I 
will  guide  thee  with  mine  eye." 

Now  all  which  we  have  advanced  would 
probably  have  been  strengthened,  had 
we  swerved  a  little  from  the  strict  order 
of  our  discourse,  and  bi'ought  the  dis- 
position, against  which  the  Psalmist 
warns  his  hearers,  into  contrast  with 
that  which  is  indirectly  commended  by 
the  voice  from  the  oracle.  Those  who 
will  yield  to  nothing  but   mathematical 


sighted,  when,  on  the  principles  of  j  demonstrations,  may  be  likened  to  ani- 
logic,  there  may  be  nothing  to  point  out  mals  who  must  be  ruled  by  bridle  and  bit. 
a  course.  And  you  would  all  be  ready  j  There  is  in  Scripture  much  that  is  adapted 
to  convict  the  child  of  a  want  of  due  for  the  management  of  the  restive  and 
love  for  his  parent,  if  he  treated  the  stubborn ;  but  its  general  character  is 
letter  just  as  he  might  a  series  of  geo-  that  of  a  document  designed  for  the  do- 
metrical  demonstrations,  admitting  no  cile  and  meek ;  and  accordingly  much 
conclusion  unless  he  had  established  |  of  its  instruction  will  be  missed,  if  you 
every  step  in  the  premises,  and  allowing  ;  yield  only  to  the  hand,  and  will  not  fol- 
no  weight  to  any  inference  or  suggestion  *low  the  eye.     We   shall  not,  however, 


which  could  not  be   made  good   by  the 
strict  rules  of  a  syllogism. 

We  bid  you  therefore  be  on  the  watch, 
that  you  carry  not  to  your  daily  reading 
of  the  Bible  the  temper  which  would  be 
so  ungracious  in  the  supposed  case  of 
the  child.  If  you  are  called  upon  to 
argue  with  the  sceptical  and  disputatious, 
you  must  arm  yourselves  with  the  ex- 
plicit statements  which  are  meant  for  the 
hard  and  unbelieving  ;  for  it  would  be 
useless  to  adduce  the  indirect  intimations, 
which  belong  only  to  the  gentle  and  af- 
fectionate. But  do  not  always,  when 
you  take  up  the  Bible,  take  it  up  as  men 
who  have  a  battle  to  fight,  and  who  must 
look  out  for  weapons.  Take  it  up  as 
the  letter  from  your  Father  which  is  in 


pursue  this  point  further  :  we  have 
probably  said  enough  to  put  you  on  your 
guard  as  to  the  temper  with  which  the 
Bible  should  be  studied;  and  we  must 
turn  to  other  illustrations  of  our  text, 
which  are  scarcely,  if  it  all,  of  less  in- 
terest and  impoi'tance. 

We  would  observe  to  you,  that  there 
are  few  doctrines  with  which  the  Chris- 
tian would  be  less  willing  to  part,  than 
with  that  of  a  particular  providence,  a 
providence  of  which  himself  individual- 
ly is  unweariedly  the  object,  so  that  the 
minutest  thing:  which  concerns  him  is 
noted  and  ordered  from  above.  We  all 
know  how  easy  and  common  it  :s  to 
throw  contempt  on  this  doctrine,  and  in 
so  doing  to   assume   all  the  appea ranee 


104 


THE  POWER  OF  THE  EYE. 


of  a  zeal  for  God's  honor,  and  of  a  dis- 
like of  human  pride.     It  may  be  urged 
to  be  inconsistent  with  the   majesty  of 
the  Supreme  Ruler  of  the  universe,  that 
He  should  give  a  close  attention  to  all 
die  petty  details  of  the  life  of  some   in- 
considerable   party  :  or    it  may  be  de- 
clared   to  savor  of  arrogance  and  pre- 
sumption,   to  imagine  that  the   trifling 
and  cvery-day   incidents   which  happen 
to  ourselves,   proceed  in   any   measure 
from  the  direct  appointment  or  interfer- 
ence of  God.     And  we  have  no  wish  to 
<leuy  that  men  have  sometimes  so  spoken 
of  a  particular  providence,  and  asserted 
6uch  evidences  in  their  own  histories  or 
cases,  as  to  justify  in  a  degree  the  ridicule 
■which  has  been  cast  upon  the  doctrine. 
But,   nevertheless,   we   feel   quite   war- 
ranted  in   holding,   from   the   necessary 
attributes  of  God,  and  from  the  express 
statements  of  Scripture,  that  the  Divine 
providence  is  as  large  as  even  imagina- 
tion   can    make    it,  extending    itself  to 
every  affair  of  every  being  throughout 
the  peopled  immensity.     There  cannot 
be  to  God,   the   infinite  and    uncreated, 
any  of  those  differences  between  great 
and  small  which  there  are  to  ourselves ; 
and  if  not  even  the  sparrow  can  fall  un- 
observed, who  will  suppose  that  there 
can  be  anything  too  insignificant  to  attract 
the  notice,  or  engage  the  watchfulness, 
of  the   Universal  Parent  1     We  would 
have   the   Christian    never  ashamed   of 
referring  to  God  the  most  inconsidera- 
ble events,  and  of  looking  for  his  hand 
in  what  is  thought  trivial  and  ordinary. 
He  is   not    degrading    God,    he    is  not 
forming  an  unworthy  opinion   of  God, 
when  he  supposes  that  this   mighty  and 
inscrulahle  Being,  who  formed  the  uni- 
verse at  first,  and  who   has   ever  since 
upheld  and  actuated  its  stupendous  me- 
chanism, is    about  his  path,   and   about 
bis  bed,  watching   his   every  step,  and 
noting  his  every  want,  just  as  though  he 
alone  were  dependent  on  Deity,  or  alone 
needed  the   being  tended   by   an   ever- 
vigilant  guardian.      The  unworthy  opin- 
ion of  God  is  entertained  and  exhibited, 
if  lie  look  for  his  hand  only  in  some  ex- 
traordinary occurrence,    if  he    remove 
from  his  inspection  what  may  be  thought 
every-day  trifles,  and  suppose  it  confined 
to  events  which  may  affect  the  whole 
course  of  life.     This  is   just    bringing 
God  down  to  the  level  of  man  :  for  this 
is  giving  Him  the  same  scale  by  which 


to  measure  importance.  Whereas,  by 
supposing  nothing  too  minute  for  the 
providence  of  God,  we  set  Him  immea- 
surably above  ourselves,  at  a  point  so 
elevated,  that  He  cannot  recognize  our 
distinctions,  but  regards  as  of  equal  di- 
mensions what  to  our  view  appears  vast 
and  what  inconsiderable. 

And,  therefore,  let  the  Christian  never 
fear  that  he  may  be  offering  an  indignity 
to  the  majesty  of  God,  if,  in  all  the  de- 
tails of  his  business,  and  in  all  the  man- 
agement of  his  household,  he  be  ever 
on  the  look-out  for  signs  of  the  Divine 
presence,  and  if  he  expect  to  be  taught 
and  assisted  from  above,  in  directing 
common  affairs,  avoiding  common  dan- 
gers, and  compassing  common  ends.  He 
should  rather  fear  that  he  may  be  offend- 
ing that  Being  whose  favor  is  life,  if  he 
ever  think  any  thing  so  easy  that  it  can 
be  done  in  his  own  strength,  or  any  thing 
so  simple  that  his  own  wisdom  will  suf- 
fice. And  we  are  quite  assured — for 
this  is  the  point  to  which  these  remarks 
are  to  bring  you — that,  if  there  be  a 
habit  ofobserving  the  indications  of  God's 
Providence,  or  of  looking  for  his  hand 
in  daily  occurrences,  there  will  quickly 
be  found  evidence  that  He  is  indeed 
always  at  our  side,  that  whatsoever  hap- 
pens to  us  proceeds  from  his  appointment, 
and  is  removed,  far  as  the  east  from  the 
west,  from  what  is  called  accident.  If 
you  do  not  cherish  such  a  habit,  you 
may  have  no  consciousness  of  the  inter- 
ference of  God  except  in  some  signal 
crisis,  when  a  great  disaster  is  permitted 
or  averted,  or  when  some  great  change 
passes  over  the  whole  aspect  of  your 
affairs.  There  are  times  in  almost  every 
man's  history,  at  which  he  owns  the 
workings  of  God,  and  events  which  force 
upon  his  notice  the  facts  of  the  Divine 
Providence  and  government.  But  once 
possess  yourselves  of  the  doctrine  of  an 
universal  Providence,  and  carry  the  doc- 
trine with  you  into  every-day  life,  resting 
on  its  truth,  and  looking  for  its  evidence, 
and  we  can  be  sure,  that,  in  the  unravel- 
ling of  little  perplexities,  in  the  scatter- 
ing of  little  clouds,  in  the  smoothing  of 
little  difficulties,  in  the  communication 
of  little  benefits,  you  will  find  as  con- 
vincing proof  that  an  omniscient  omni- 
present Being  is  busied  with  your  guid- 
ance, as  though  life  were  a  series  of 
miracles,  and  every  moment  saw  you 
openly  snatched  from  the  jaws  of  a  new 


THE  POWER  OF    THE  EYE. 


105 


peril.  And  to  those  who  accustom  them- 
selves in  all  humility  to  this  tracing  in 
every  thing  the  Providence  of'God,  there 
will  be  vouchsafed  such  guidance  through 
the  bearing  of  events,  such  intimations 
in  the  form  and  complexion  of  common 
occurrences,  as  will  generally  suffice  to 
keep  them  in  the  best  path,  when  less 
watchful  persons  would  be  at  a  loss  for 
direction.  He  who  is  always  noting  the 
Divine  Providence,  will  grow  so  used  to 
its  workings,  as  to  be  able,  in  a  measure, 
to  prepare  for  the  future  from  what  he 
has  marked  in  the  past  and  the  present. 
And  it  is  all  this  which  is  so  beauti- 
fully indicated  by  the  promise  of  our 
text.  It  is  not  simply  a  promise  that 
the  eye  of  God  shall  be  upon  us  ;  for 
that  were  only  a  declaration,  hovever 
striking  and  expressive,  of  the  universal 
Providence  of  Him  who  neither  slumbers 
nor  sleeps.  It  is  a  promise  that  we  shall 
be  guided  by  this  eye  :  but  such  a  pro- 
mise supposes  us  to  be  looking  at  the 
eye  :  it  is  not  enough  for  the  purposes 
of  guidance,  that  the  eye  be  fixed  on  us  : 
our  own  eye  must  also  be  fixed  upon 
God  :  and  it  is  only,  so  to  speak,  when 
the  two  eyes  meet,  that  we  can  gather 
instruction  as  to  the  way  in  which  to  walk. 
And  again  must  we  remind  you  of  the 
difference  between  the  voice  and  the  eye. 
If  God  promised  to  guide  us  with  his 
voice,  our  being  guided  might  not  depend 
on  our  being  always  on  the  watch.  The 
voice  might  force  attention  from  the 
careless  :  it  is  not  indispensable  that  we 
be  always  in  a  listening  posture,  in  order 
to  our  catching  the  words  of  a  speaker. 
But  the  case  is  altogether  different,  if  we 
are  to  be  guided  by  the  eye.  Here  the 
looking  posture  is  altogether  indispen- 
sable ;  and  it  is  only  so  far  as  this  posture 
is  rigidly  maintained  that  we  can  learn 
from  the  directing  glance  which  turn  to 
take. 

So  that,  if  you  dismiss  for  a  moment  the 
figurative  expression,  and  think  only  on 
the  truth  which  the  emblem  conveys,  you 
are  taueht  that  those  who  would  be  led 
by  their  Maker,  must  be  ever  on  tne 
watch  for  intimations  of  his  will,  not  ex- 
pecting notices  such  as  even  the  least 
observant  must  mark,  but  such  rather  as 
all  but  the  vigilant  may  readily  overlook. 
In  the  little  turns  and  shiftings  of  every- 
day things,  in  the  motions,  as  it  were,  of 
leaves,  and  in  the  fallings  of  the  dew, 
must    they    be    tracing  the    unwearied 


Providence  of  the  Almighty,  and  reading 
his  directions  to  themselves.      These  are 
his  glances,  the  expressions  of  his  coun- 
tenance, the  movements  of  his  eye.     Oh  ! 
not   when   He  is  walking  the  heaven  in 
his  magnificence,  robed  in  hurricane,  and 
speaking  in  thunder,  is  He  leading  man 
with    his  eye ;  but  rather  when  in  the 
solitude  of  a  cottage,  He  is  showing  some 
prayerful  and  simple-hearted  peasant,  to 
whom  every  sprig  shoots   by  God,  and 
every  pin  falls  by  God,  how  he  may  best 
extricate    himself  from   a  difficulty,   or 
provide  against  a  calamity.     You  know 
not  how  you  are  involving  yourselves  in 
perplexities,  and  depriving  yourselves  of 
comfort,  through  the  not  cultivating  such 
a  habit  of  communion  with  God,  as  would 
cause  you  to  feel  continually  in  his  pre- 
sence, and  directed  by  his  Providence. 
You  oblige  Him,  as  it  were,  to  use  harsh 
measures  with  you,   to  compel  your  at- 
tention by  something  startling  and  severe, 
because  you  will  not  observe  those  gentle 
indications  of  his  nearness,  those  quiet 
suggestions  of  his  will,  which,  like  a  ges- 
ture or  a  glance,  are  not  the  less  expres- 
sive, because  so  tranquil  and  silent.    And 
our  earnest  desire  for  you  is,  that  you 
may  not  only  be  brought  to  the  feeling 
that  God's  eye  is  ever  upon  you — for  this 
might  merely  produce    uneasiness,  the 
sense  of  being  watched — but  that  you 
may  habitually  be  observant  of  that  eye, 
so  that,  whilst  it  rests  on  you  in  unwea- 
ried inspection,  yours  may  rest  on  it  in 
unwearied     expectation.       You     quite 
know,  you  quite  feel,    what    would   be 
meant,  were  we  to    speak  of   an  indi- 
vidual as  guided  by  the  eye  of  a  parent 
or  kinsman.     You  would  understand  at 
once  that  the  parent  or  kinsman,  though 
he  might  occasionally  deliver  explict  di- 
rections, more  frequently  gave  nothing 
but  silent  intimations,  leaving  his  wishes 
to  be  gathered  from  minute  signs,  and 
momentary  tokens,  which  would  not  es- 
cape the  keenness  of  affection,  though 
they  might  be  wholly  overlooked  by  the 
unattached  hireling. 

There  is  a  great  deal  said  as  to  the 
language  of  the  eye  :  and  if  you  think 
for  a  moment  on  the  look  which  Christ 
cast  upon  Peter,  when  he  had  just  ut- 
tered his  third  and  vehement  denial,  a 
look  which  quite  subdued  the  recreant 
Apostle,  and  sent  him  forth  to  seek  a 
place  where  he  might  weep  in  an  agony 
of  shame   and  remorse,  you   will  admit 

14 


106 


THE  POWER  OF  THE  EYE. 


that  this  language  may  indeed  be  mar- 
vellously powerful,  and  go  as  deep  into 
the  heart  as  the  most  penetrating  that 
ever  proceeds  from  the  tongue.  By  and 
through  this  language,  as  we  have  just 
said,  may  a  child  or  a  friend  be  effec- 
tually guided  ;  and  you  have  no  diffi- 
culty in  understanding  the  terms,  so  to 
speak,  on  which  the  child  and  parent 
are,  if  we  say  that  the  looks  of  the  one 
are  sufficient  for  the  direction  of  the 
other.  And  we  wish  that  it  might  be 
thus  between  you  and  God.  We  wish 
that  you  might  not  be  those  cold  and 
hard-minded  servants,  who  mu^t  have 
every  word  written  down  before  they 
will  comply,  and  who  think  themselves 
required  to  do  nothing  for  which  there 
is  not,  in  so  many  syllables,  a  direction 
which  it  is  impossible  to  overlook  01 
evade.  We  wish  you  rather  to  be  like 
one  of  those  devoted  sous  and  daugh- 
ters, who  gaze  on  the  countenance  of 
the  one  whom  they  love  and  revere, 
eager  to  save  him,  as  it  were,  the  trouble 
of  speaking,  and  to  learn  his  wishes  ere 
they  can  be  breathed.  We  desire  this 
for  you,  not  merely  because  it  is  far  bet- 
ter for  you  to  stand  to  God  in  the  rela- 
tion of  children  than  of  servants,  but 
because  it  is  the  Divine  method  to  teach 
much  through  a  look,  and  therefore  you 
may  remain  uninstructed  if  you  will  take 
only  winds.  There  are  striking  and 
startling  appointments  of  the  Providence 
of  God,  and  these  are  his  voice  ;  but 
there  are  noiseless  and  more  common 
orderings  of  that  Providence,  and  these 
are  his  glance.  If  you  will  only  attend 
to  the  former,  you  will  wander  in  a 
wrong  path,  till  scared  as  by  the  shout 
of  a  toe  :  but  if  you  are  habitually  regard- 
ful of  the  latter,  you  can  scarcely  fail  to 
feel  always  under  the  leadings  of  a  friend. 
For  dome  with  us  now,  and  let  us  go 
with  David  to  the  oracle,  that  we  may 
hear,  in  sounds  breathed  from  the  reces- 
ses of  the  sancluiry,  in  what  way  God 
will  promise  to  lead  on  his  people.  We 
prostrate  ourselves  before  the  mysterious 
shrine,  and  we  propose,  in  reverence  and 
humility,  our  question  as  to  the  mode  in 
which,  sojourners  as  we  are  on  earth, 
we  may  look  to  be  directed  by  Him 
who  dwelleth  in  the  heaven-;.  "  Lord  of 
all  power  and  might,  wilt  Thou  inform 
us  of  thy  will,  through  the  fearful  tread 
of  thy  feet,  as  Thou  dost  pais  through 
the  fields  of  immensity  ;  or  through  the 


waving  of  thine  arm,  as  Thou  dost  mar- 
shal before  thee,  and  around  thee,  the 
troop  of  brilliant  stars  ;  or  through  the 
rushings  of  thy  voice,  heard  above  all 
human  sound,  whose  whisper  raised  an 
universe,  and  could  reduce  it  into  no- 
thingness ]  Is  it  thus,  in  modes  which 
even  the  careless  must  observe,  and  the 
proud  cannot  mistake,  that  Thou  wilt 
make  known  thy  pleasure  to  those  whom 
Thou  dost  love  ]  "  Nay — it  is  a  still 
small  voice  which  is  breathed  responsive-* 
ly  from  the  oracle,  the  quietness  of  tone 
indicating  the  nature  of  the  reply  :  and 
never  henceforwards  let  us  expect  di- 
rection in  our  difficulties,  and  instruc- 
tion in  our  ignorance,  if  we  do  not  habit- 
uate ourselves  to  the  momentarily  wait- 
ing upon  God,  as  those  who  feel,  that  in 
missing  a  glance,  they  may  miss  a  lesson, 
seeing  that  the  still  small  voice  gives 
utterance  to  this  promise,  "  I  will  guide 
thee  with  mine  eye." 

Now  you  cannot  have  failed  to  ob- 
serve, that,  throughout  this  examination 
into  the  promise  of  guidance  which  pro- 
ceeds from  the  oracular  voice,  we  have 
been  insisting  on  the  necessity  of  a  meek 
and  teachable  disposition.  The  whole 
bent  of  our  discourse  has  been  towards 
the  showing  you,  that  the  promise,  made 
on  God's  part,  supposes  on  our  own  a 
particular  temper  and  habit,  so  that  it 
can  only  take  effect  where  this  temper 
and  habit  exist.  You  cannot  be  too  fre- 
quently reminded  of  this  peculiarity  in 
the  passage — there  cannot  be  guidance 
by  the  eye,  unless  there  be  constant  at- 
tention in  the  one  party,  as  well  as  con- 
stant superintendence  in  the  other.  And 
when  you  have  observed  that  the  pro- 
mise virtually  inculcates  a  particular  dis- 
position, the  disposition  of  watchfulness, 
of  readiness  to  note  God's  hand  in  the 
minutest  occurrences,  and  to  search  out 
the  lightest  intimations  of  his  will,  you 
must  feel  the  force  of  the  Psalmist's 
admonition,  which  the  oracular  reply 
caused  him  to  address  to  the  by-standers. 
This  admonition,  as  we  have  already  re- 
marked to  you,  warns  against  a  disposi- 
tion which  is  just  the  opposite  to  that 
which  the  promise  requires.  If  guided 
by  the  eye,  I  am  ready  to  follow  the 
most  gentle  indication  of  the  will  of  my 
leader;  but  I  may  refuse  to  be  guided 
by  the  eye;  1  may  give  no  heed  to  a 
look;  and  thus  may  I  be  like  to  the 
horse,  and  the  mule,  which  have  no  un- 


THE  POWER  OF  THE  EYE. 


107 


derstanding,  and  which  will  go  only  as 
compelled  by  the  bit  and  the  bridle. 

And  you  must   see,   that,  founded  as 
the  admonition  is  upon  the  promise,  it 
is  implied  that  God  desires  to  direct  us 
through  quiet  and  tender  dealings,  and 
that,  if  He  have  recourse  to  harsher,  it 
is  because  our  obduracy  and  inattention 
render  needful  such  treatment.     There 
is  something  very  affecting  in  this  con- 
sideration :  God  only  knows  how  much 
of  severe  discipline  we  bring  upon  our- 
selves,   through    refusing   to  be  taught 
through  the  gentler.     We  now,  you  see, 
take  guidance  by  the  eye,  as  indicating 
a  course  of  tender  measures  ;  for  though 
undoubtedly  there  may  be  severity  in  a 
look,  yet  guidance  by  the  eye,    as  con- 
trasted with  guidance  by  the  bridle  and 
the  bit,  7nust  be  considered  as  expressive 
of  gentleness,  in  opposition  to  roughness 
and  force.     God,  if  we  would  but  per- 
mit Him,  would  lead  us  by  his  eye,  that 
eye  which  is   the   light  of  an   extended 
creation,    and    from    which,  as  it  rests 
complacently  upon  them  in  their  ardent 
waitings  round  his  throne,  the  angel  and 
and  the  archangel  draw  their  rich  hap- 
piness.    "  He  doth  not  afflict  willingly, 
nor  grieve  the  children   of  men  :  "   and 
we  might  almost  say — if  we  did  not  fear 
to   attribute   to   God  what  consists  not 
with  his  perfections — that  the  eye  whose 
gentle  glances  we  have   refused  to  fol- 
low, is   dimmed    with    tears,  when  the 
voice  must  speak  sternly,  and  the  hand 
rise   in  chastisement.     But,  alas  !   man, 
in  the  expressive  language  of  the  book 
of  Job,  is  "  born  like  the  wild  ass's  colt ;" 
and  how  is    a  look  to  tame  what  is  so 
restive  and  ungovernable  'I     The  look  is 
tried,  but  tried  commonly  without  effect. 
The    glance  of  the  eye  is  in  the  warm 
sunbeam  ;  and  the  smile   of  the  face  is 
on    those   many   mercies  which    spread 
gladness   and   peace  through  unbroken 
families :    but    the    sunbeam    wakes  no 
love  to  God,  and   the  mercies  fail  to  at- 
tract man  to  his  Maker. 

And  what  is  to  be  done,  whert  in  vain 
hath  God  looked  down  from  heaven,  in 
vain  turned  upon  us  his  eye  of  loving- 
kindness,  hoping  that  we  would  mark 
its  beaming  emanations,  and  trace  them 
back  till  we  were  lost  in  Himself?  Shall 
He  leave  us  to  run  unrestrained  in  the 
wilderness,  goaded  by  our  own  passions, 
and  hastening  to  perdition  1  He  loves 
us  too  well  for  this  :  He  would  not  have 


us  perish  without  an  effort  for  our  deliv- 
erance.    But  since   gentle   means  have 
failed,  He  must  now  adopt  harsh  :  the 
hand  must  he  tried,  where  the  eye  has 
not  succeeded,  and  the  bridle  be  fasten- 
ed, where  the  look  has  been  scorned. 
We  pretend  not  to  say   that  this  might 
be  illustrated  from  the  history  of  every 
individual :  but  probably  the  cases  are  far 
more  frequent  than  are  commonly  sup- 
posed, in  which  the  guidance  of  the  bit 
has  been  made  necessary  by  disobedience 
to  the  guidance  of  the  eye.     Why  has 
poverty  come,  like  an  armed  man,  on  an 
individual  who  was  long  hlessed  with 
prosperity  1    Ah  !  the  prosperity  which 
was    nothing    but  the  graciousness    of 
God's  countenance,  did  not  lead  Him  to 
the  Author  and  Giver  of  every  good  gift 
and  of  every  perfect ;  and   therefore  is 
adversity    being  tried  :  perchance  that 
hard    dealing    will    turn  him  from  the 
world,  and  direct  him  towards  heaven. 
Why  has  affliction  come  heavily  on  that 
mother,  who  had  garnered  up  her  heart 
in  her  only  son,  and  now  must  see  him 
carried  out  to  the  grave  1    Ah  !  her  child, 
in  whom,  as  the  sunny  smile  played  upon 
his  face,  she  ought  to  have  viewed  the 
reflected  glance  of  her  Maker,  wooing  her 
to  Himself,  did  but  bind  her  to  the  pre- 
sent world,  in  place  of  pointing  her  to  a 
brighter :    and    now    she  who  gave  no 
heed  to  that  look  of  Divine  tenderness 
which  was  embodied  in  her  cherub-like 
boy,  must  undergo  the  harsh  processes  of 
constraint  and  correction,   if  peradven- 
ture   they   may   guide  her  to  Him  who 
wounds  only  that  He  may  heal. 

It  would  not  of  course  become  us,  as 
we  have  already  inched,  to  conclude,  in 
every  case  where  we  see  the  bridle  em- 
ployed, that  it  is  employed  only  because 
the  eye  has  not  been  watched  and  obey- 
ed. But  still,  when  you  observe  how  ex- 
press are  the  assertions  of  Scripture  as 
to  the  unwillingness  of  God  to  apportion 
pain  to  his  creatures,  you  must  allow 
that  suffering  is  permitted  because  no- 
thin  a:  but  suffering  will  suffice  ;  and  you 
may  suppose,  that,  in  general,  the  harsh 
measure  is  not  likely  to  be  tried,  till  the 
gentle  has  been  tried  without  success. 

And  this  is  simply  what  we  think  in- 
dicated by  the  promise  in  the  first  verse 
of  our  text,  when  taken  in  connexion  with 
the  admonition  in  the  second.  We  leave 
you  to  draw  for  yourselves  the  practical 
inferences  from  our  previous  illustrations 


108 


THE  POWER  OF  THE  EYE. 


of  the  promise  in  question.     We  leave 
you  to  conclude  the  necessity  of  a  prompt 
and  teachable  temper,  if  you  would  study 
the  Scriptures  with  profit,  the  temper  of 
those  who  are  perusing  a  document  from 
one  whom  they  love,  who    are  anxious 
only  to  ascertain  his  wishes,  and  who  are 
therefore  as  ready  to  act  upon  hints  as 
upon  explicit  commands.   Neither  do  we 
stay  now  to  insist  further  on  the  import- 
ance of  seeking  God's  help  in  the  very 
smallest  things,  and  of  striving  to  trace 
the  leadings  of  his  Providence  in  simple, 
every-day  occurrences.     But  this  fresh 
view  of  the  promise,  obtained  from   re- 
garding it  in  connexion  with  the  Psalm- 
ist's admonition,  is  so  rife  with  touching 
interest  and  instruction,  that  we  must  en- 
treat you  to  be  stedfastin  its  contempla- 
tion,   and  faithful    in  its  remembrance. 
If  we  would  preserve  our  blessings,  we 
must  see  to  it  that  these  blessings  conduct 
us  to  God.     This  is  the  inference,  this  the 
lesson.     We  may  consider  mercies  as  the 
beamings  of  the  Almighty's  eye,  when 
the  light  of  his  countenance  is  lifted  up 
upon  us  ;  and  that  man  is  guided  by  the 
eye,  whom  mercies  attract  and  attach  to 
his  Maker.     But  oh  !  let  us  refuse  to  be 
guided  by  the  eye,  and  it  will  become 
needful  that  we  be  curbed  with  the  hand. 
If  we  abuse  our  mercies,  if  we  forget, 
their  Author,  and    yield  Him  not  grate- 
fully the  homage  of  our  affections,  we 
do  but  oblige  Him,  by  his  love   for  our 
souls,  to  apportion  us  disaster  and  trouble. 
Complain  not,  then,  that  there  is  so  much 
of  sorrow    in    your    lot ;   but    consider 
rather  how  much  of  it  you  may  have  wil- 
fully brought  upon  yourselves.      Listen 
to  the  voice  of  God,   "  I  will  guide  thee 
with  mine  eye  " — mine  eye  whose  glance 
gilds   all  that   is   beautiful,    whose  li <gHt 
disperses  all  darkness,  prevents  all  dan- 
ger,   diffuses    all   happiness.      And   why 
then  is  it  that  ye  are  sorely  disquieted  'I 
why  is  it   that  "  fear  and  the   pit  "    arc 
so  often    upon  you  ;   that    one    blessing 
after  another  disappears  from   your  cir- 
cle ;   and   that  God   seems   to   deal   with 
you  as  with  the  wayward  and  unruly,  on 
whom  any  thing  of  gentleness  would  be 
altogether  lost '{      Ah  !    if  you  would  ac- 
count for    many   mercies  that   have  de- 
parted, if  you  would  insure  permanence 
to  those  that  are  yet  left,  examine  how 
deficient   you  may   hitherto   have  been, 
and  strive  to  be   more  diligent  for  the 
future,  in  obeying  an  admonition  which 


implies  that  we  should  be  guided  by  the 
soft  lustres  of  the  eye,  if  our  obduracy 
did  not  render  indispensable  the  harsh 
constraints  of  the  rein,  "  Be  ye  not  as 
the  horse,  or  as  the  mule,  whose  mouth 
must  be  held  in  with  bit  and  bridle." 

And,  now,  have  we   any  other  illus- 
tration to  offer  of  our  text,  or  any  other 
inference  to  deduce  from  it,  whether  of 
doctrine  or  reproof]     Indeed,  we  know 
not  that  there  yet  remains  any  other  im- 
portant view  of  a  passage  which,  though 
easily  overlooked,  seems  to  us  amongst 
the  most  touching  and  expressive  to  be 
found  in  the  Bible.     But  in  pondering 
the  words  on  which  we  have  discoursed, 
and  considering  their  bearings  on  other 
parts   of  Scripture,   we  could  not  help 
connecting  them  with  that  awful  cry  in 
the  book  of  Revelation,  which  is  uttered 
by  the  impenitent  when   overtaken  by 
judgment,   and   which    passionately    in- 
vokes  shelter  from  the   rocks  and  the 
hills,   that  there    may    be    concealment 
from  the  face  of  Him  who  si*  upon  the 
throne.     We  are  always  much  struck  at 
the  power  thus  ascribed  to  the  face.     It 
is  said  of  the  Judge,  in  a  most  sublime 
expression,  "  From  whose  face  the  earth 
and  the  heaven  fled  away  ;  "  and  it  is 
from  the  face,  as  we  have  just  quoted, 
that  the   shrieking   crowd  implore   the 
beinof  hid.     It  is  as  though  a  look  would 
then  be  enough  :  there  will  be  no  need 
for  the  tongue  :  the  eye  will  condemn, 
and  send  forth  consternation  throughout 
the  hosts  of  the  rebellious.     And  if  God 
be  ready  now  to  guide  us  with  his  eye, 
and  if  hereafter,  supposing  us  to  follow 
some  other  leader,  we  shall  shrink  from 
his  eye,  have    we  not  riot   an  exemplifi- 
cation of  retributive  justice,  an  evidence 
how    thoroughly    abused    mercies,  and 
neglected  privileges,  will  rise  up  as  wit- 
nesses  against   us,   so   that  the    Divine 
dealings  with   us  here  shall  have  only  to 
be  arrayed,  in  order  t.o  our  sinking,  self- 
sentenced,  into  the  pit  of  the  lost/   The 
eye   which    is   upon   the  sinful   now    to 
conduct,  will  be  upon  them  to  condemn  ; 
and  however  easy  it  may  be  to  resist  the 
guidance  of  that  eye  whilst  it  beams  forth 
in    tenderness,  it    will   be  impossible  to 
withstand  its  decree  of  banishment  when 
lit  up  with  anger.     Yes,  it  may  be  the 
terrible    tiling   at   the  judgment,    to   be 
forced  to  look  on  our  benefactor,  to  be- 
hold Him  face  to  face,  to  meet,  his  eye! 
Any  thing  rather  than  this — even  now, 


PILATE  S  WIFE. 


109 


if  we  have  been  ungrateful  to  a  friend, 
if  we  have  slighted  his  kindness  and  re- 
paid it  with  injury,  we  are  troubled  by 
his  glance,  and  would  do  much  to  avoid 
the  reproachful  yet  sorrowful  expres- 
sion of  bis  countenance.  And  to  see 
hereafter  that  gracious  Being  who  has 
unweariedly  studied  our  good,  who  has 
spared  no  pains  that  He  might  turn  us 
from  evil,  who  has  striven  by  all  imagin- 
able means  to  lead  us  to  happiness,  to 
see  Him,  and  know  Him,  with  the  frown 
upon  his  brow — terror  of  terrors ! 
Even  love  is  armed  against  us,  and  we 


feel  in  an  instant  all  the  anguish  of  de- 
spair. "  Be  ye  not  as  the  horse  or  as  the 
mule," — with  what  emphasis  come  these 
words,  when  we  think  on  the  eye  of 
Clod  as  passing  sentence,  by  its  glance 
of  reproach,  on  the  scornful  and  the  ob- 
durate. "  I  will  guide  thee  with  mine 
eye  " — can  these  gracious  syllables  be 
ever  taken  as  a  threat  'I  Alas  !  yes. 
That  eye  would  now  guide  you,  by  its 
look  of  love,  to  the  kingdom  of  heaven; 
but  resist  it,  and  that  eye  shall  direct 
you,  by  its  look  of  wrath,  to  the  "  fire 
prepared  for  the  devil  and  his  angels." 


SERMON    XIII. 


PILATE'S  WIFE. 


"  When  he  was  set  down  on  the  jndgnient  seat,  his  wife  sent  unto  him,  saying,  Have  thou  nothing  to  do  with  that 
just  man:  for  I  have  suffered  many  tilings  this  day  in  a  dream  because  of  him." — Matt,  xxvii.  19. 


We  need  hardly  tell  you  that  these 
words  have  reference  to  Pilate,  the  Ro- 
man governor  of  Judea,  by  whose  direc- 
tion or  consent  our  blessed  Lord  was 
crucified.  There  have  been  many  dis- 
putes in  regard  of  certain  parts  of  Pilate's 
conduct ;  but  all  seem  to  agree  in  con- 
demning him,  on  the  whole,  as  having  act- 
ed with  signal  injustice.  He  would  seem 
to  have  been  a  weak  as  well  as  a  wicked 
person  :  at  least,  his  wickedness  forced 
him  to  assume  all  the  appearance  of 
weakness — for  having  irritated  and  dis- 
gusted the  Jewish  people,  over  whom 
he  was  set,  by  extortion  and  cruelty,  he 
was  in  dread  lest  their  complaints  should 
procure  his  removal  from  his  govern- 
ment ;  and  therefore  he  did  not  dare  to 
thwart  their  will,  even  when  acknowl- 
edging- to  himself  its  baseness  and  un- 
reasonableness.  You  observe,  through- 
out the  whole  account  of  Pilate's  deal- 


ings with  Christ,  that  he  was  thoroughly 
satisfied  as  to  the  innocence  of  the 
prisoner,  and  the  malice  of  his  accusers. 
The  more  he  examined  Him,  the  more 
does  he  seem  to  have  deepened  in  the 
conviction  that  there  was  no  fault  in 
Him,  and  to  have  become  anxious  to 
procure  his  enlargement.  And  when 
at  length  he  yielded,  and  gave  up  Je- 
sus to  the  will  of  his  persecutors,  it 
was  avowedly  because  overborne  by  the 
cry  for  his  destruction,  and  in  no  degree 
because  persuaded  of  his  being  worthy 
of  death. 

There  never  perhaps  was  a  more  sin- 
gular scene  than  that  exhibited  when 
the  governor  surrendered  up  our  Lord. 
Wishing  to  show  by  a  most  significative 
action  his  firm  belief  in  the  innocence  of 
Christ,  Pilate  "  took  water,  and  washed 
his  hands  before  the  multitude,  saying, 
I  am  innocent  of  the  blood  of  this  just 


110 


PILATE  S  WIFE. 


person:  seeyetoit."  What  a  scene!  the 
judge  acquits  the  prisoner,  and  at  the  same 
time  delivers  Him  to  death.  He  wishes 
to  have  no  share  in  the  murder  about 
to  be  committed,  though  it  could  not 
be  committed  but  by  his  order  or  concur- 
rence. Alas!  for  human  inconsistency  : 
Pilate  is  not  the  only  man,  who  whilst 
sinning  against  conscience,  has  contriv- 
ed some  excuse,  and  thought  both  to  do 
the  deed  and  prevent  its  consequences. 
But  how  striking  was  the  testimony 
given  to  our  Lord.  He  was  to  die  as  a 
malefactor :  but  who  ever  died  as  a 
malefactor,  before  or  since,  with  the 
judge's  verdict  in  his  favor  of  his  being 
a  "just  person  1  "  It  was  wondrously 
ordered  by  God,  that  the  enemies  of 
Christ  should  be  witnesses  to  his  right- 
eousness. Judas,  who  betrayed  Him, 
could  furnish  no  accusation,  and  handed 
himself  through  remorse  when  He  saw 
Him  condemned.  Pilate  who  allowed 
his  crucifixion,  stood  forward  amongst 
the  multitude  who  were  clamorous  for 
his  death,  and  declared,  even  whilst 
consenting  to  their  wish,  that  He  who 
called  Himself  their  King  had  done 
nothing  to  justify  his  being  made  their 
victim.  But  the  testimony  thus  borne 
to  the  Redeemer,  however  irresistible, 
in  no  degree  takes  off  from  the  sin  of 
those,  who,  having  given  it,  were  ac- 
cessory to  his  death.  Indeed,  so  far  as 
Pilate  is  concerned,  it  is  very  evident 
that  what  makes  him  immeasurably 
guilty,  is  the  consciousness,  which  he 
took  no  pains  to  conceal,  of  the  perfect 
innocence  of  Clmst.  Had  he  had  his 
doubts,  had  he  felt,  that,  though  appear- 
ances were  in  favor  of  our  Lord,  there 
were  circumstances  of  which  the  Jews 
were  better  judges  than  himself,  and 
which  might  perhaps  warrant  his  con- 
demnation, there  would  have  been  some 
shadow  of  excuse  for  his  yielding  to 
the  importunity  of  the  priests  and  the 
people.  But  not  a  syllable  of  the  kind 
can  be  alleged.  The  Roman  governor 
was  as  certain  of  Christ's  innocence  as 
of  his  own  existence  :  he  had  not  the 
remotest  suspicion  that  He  might  be 
guilty  of  anything  which  merited  death  : 
and  therefore,  in  suffering  Him  to  be 
crucified,  he  passed  his  own  condemna- 
tion, and  registered  his  sentence  as  wil- 
fully unjust,  having  by  his  vices  so 
placed  himself  in  the  power  of  the 
wicked,  that,  in  spite  of  the  upbraidings 


of  conscience,    he   must  join   them  in 
their  wickedness. 

We  speak,  you  observe,  of  the  up- 
braidings of  conscience  :  for  the  ob- 
servable thing  is,  that  this  great  princi- 
ple was  not  dormant  in  Pilate,  but,  on 
the  contrary,  acted  with  faithfulness  and 
vigor.  Whatever  the  sensuality  and 
tyranny  of  this  Roman,  he  had  evident- 
ly not  succeeded  in  silencing  conscience  : 
he  had  not  reached  the  state,  sometimes 
reached  by  the  wicked,  when  wrong 
actions  seem  preceded  by  no  repug- 
nance, and  followed  by  no  remorse. 
Through  all  the  proceedings  against  Je- 
sus in  which  he  had  part,  there  was 
manifestly  a  great  struggle  in  his  breast ; 
and  it  was  only  a  sense  of  danger,  the 
fear  of  offending  the  people,  and  of 
giving  ground  for  an  accusation  of  neg- 
lect of  the  interests  of  Caesar,  which 
finally  prevailed  against  the  sense  of 
what  was  right,  and  induced  him  to  con- 
sent to  the  crucifixion  of  Christ.  And 
this  it  is,  as  we  have  said,  which  fixes 
upon  Pilate  so  enormous  a  criminality. 
Though  backed  by  his  legions  so  that 
he  might  have  repressed  any  tumult  ex- 
cited by  his  refusal  to  do  wrong,  he 
knowingly  and  wilfully  committed  an 
act  of  monstrous  injustice  and  cruelty, 
in  the  hope  of  obtaining  a  transient 
popularity,  or  averting  a  momentary 
anger.  He  could  hardly  have  been  ig- 
norant that  the  very  multitude,  which 
were  now  vociferating  "  Crucify  him, 
crucify  him,"  had,  but  a  few  days  be- 
fore, rent  the  air  with  their  hosannahs 
as  Christ  entered  Jerusalem ;  and  he 
might  therefore  have  calculated  that,  if 
he  shielded  Jesus  for  a  while  from  the 
popular  fury,  he  should  see  Him  again 
the  object  of  the  popular  favor.  But 
no  :  he  would  run  no  risk  :  and,  there- 
fore, like  many  others  who  sacrifice  the 
future  to  the  present,  he  crushed  his 
conscience  and  himself  by  the  same 
desperate  act. 

Neither  is  this  all :  we  do  not  think 
that  the  enormity  of  Pilate  is  to  be  es- 
timated from  the  mere  resistance  of  con- 
science. There  is  a  circumstance  in  the 
narrative  of  this  guilty  man,  which  scarce- 
ly seems  to  us  to  obtain  its  due  share  of 
attention,  but  which,  in  our  view  of  the 
matter,  asfs-Tavates  immeasurably  his 
crime.  And  this  is  the  circumstance 
related  in  our  text,  which  is  omitted  in- 
deed by  the  other  Evangelists,  and  re- 


PILATE  S  WIFE. 


Ill 


ceives  no  comment  even  from  St.  Mat- 
thew. At  the  very  moment  that  he  sat 
down  on  the  judgment  seat,  already  per- 
suaded of  the  innocence  of  Christ,  hut 
perplexed  hy  the  clamor  of  the  multi- 
tude;, there  came  to  Pilate  a  message 
from  his  wife,  a  message  of  entreaty  and 
warning,  declaratory  of  her  having  had 
some  fearful  dream  or  vision  in  refer- 
ence to  Christ,  and  beseeching  him  to 
take  no  measures  against  that  just  or 
righteous  man.  We  know  nothing  in 
regard  of  Pilate's  wife — she  may  have 
before  been  inclined  to  the  receiving  Je- 
sus as  a  Prophet ;  or,  which  is  the  more 
probable,  she  may  have  known  or  cared 
nothing  respecting  Him,  till,  through  a 
supernatural  visitation,  she  learnt  his 
innocence,  and  the  peril  of  acting  as  his 
enemy.  This  is  comparatively  unim- 
portant. It  is  certain  that  God  specially 
interfered  to  work  in  her  mind  convic- 
tion on  these  points,  and  that  she  in  con- 
sequence sent  a  distinct  and  urgent  mes- 
sage to  her  husband,  which  reached  him 

o  i 

at  the  critical  moment  when  he  was  in- 
clined to  waver  between  what  he  felt  to 
be  duty,  and  what  he  thought  to  be  in- 
terest. There  is  nothing  told  us  as  to 
the  manner  in  which  Pilate  received  the 
communication.  But  forasmuch  as  he 
is  described  as  taking  increased  pains 
afterwards  to  prevail  on  the  multitude 
to  forego  their  bloody  purpose,  we  may 
suppose  that  it  was  not  without  effect ; 
but  that,  corroborating  his  own  convic- 
tion, it  added  to  his  earnestness  to  de- 
liver Christ,  and  therefore  to  his  guilti- 
ness, when  he  nevertheless  abandoned 
Him. 

And  this,  as  we  have  stated,  is,  in  our 
view,  the  most  singular  circumstance  in 
what  is  narrated  of  Pilate,  the  most  re- 
markable in  itself,  and  the  most  condem- 
natory of  the  unjust  and  dissolute  judge. 
We  do  not  know  whether  we  shall  be  able 
to  make  palpable  to  you  all  the  instructive- 
ness  and  energy  contained  in  an  inci- 
dent to  which  you  may  not  have  been 
wont  to  attach  much  importance.  But 
we  will  make  the  endeavor  :  we  will 
consider  God  as  acting  upon  Pilate  to 
deter  him  from  committing  a  great 
crime,  and  therefore  to  leave  him  inex- 
cusable in  the  commission ;  and  we 
will  strive  to  show  you — and  that  too  in 
a  manner  which  shall  bring  certain  great 
practical  lessons  home  to  yourselves — 
how  this  was  emphatically  done,  when 


the  wife  of  the  Roman  governor  sent  to 
tell  him  of  her  vision,  and  to  beseech 
him  that  he  would  abstain  from  all  vio- 
lence asrainst  that  righteous  man  Chrst. 
Now  there  is  unquestionably  a  diffi- 
culty in  reconciling  the  foreknowledge, 
and  yet  more  the  purposes  of  God  with 
the  free  agency,  and  therefore  with  the 
responsibleness  of  man.  It  certainly  is 
not  easy,  and  perhaps  with  our  contract- 
ed powers  not  possible,  to  understand 
how  men  can  be  fully  independent  in 
the  doing,  and  therefore  thoroughly 
chargeable  with  the  doing,  things  on 
which  God  has  loner  before  determined, 
so  that  they  are  instruments  in  his 
hands,  and  yet  at  the  same  time  free 
agents,  following  their  own  wills,  and 
answerable  for  all  the  consequences. 
But  there  is  abundant  evidence  from 
Scripture,  and  also  from  the  nature  of 
the  case,  that  there  is  no  human  action 
which  is  not  foreseen  by  God,  which  is 
not  indeed  so  definitely  pre-ascertained 
that  it  can  be  reckoned  on  as  though 
fixed  by  an  absolute  decree,  but  which, 
all  the  while,  does  not  spring  from  the 
unbiassed  human  will,  unbiassed,  we 
mean,  in  such  sense  as  to  acquit  God 
altogether  of  being  the  author  of  evil. 
We  are  to  be  especially  careful  that  we 
never  reject  either  one  of  two  truths, 
because  we  may  be  unable  to  prove 
their  consistency  :  for  the  harmony  of 
two  truths  is  itself  a  third  truth  ;  and 
whilst  our  faculties  may  be  competent 
to  the  determining  the  two.  they  may 
fail  us  when  we  would  advance  to  de- 
termine the  third.  The  foreknowledge, 
and  pre-determination  of  the  Almighty 
— this  is  a  truth  which  reason  and  reve- 
lation concur  in  setting  forth.  The  li- 
berty  of  human  actions,  so  that  each  of 
us  is  decided  by  his  own  will  what  to 
do,  and  what  to  forbear — this  is  another 
truth,  demonstrable  from  the  same 
sources,  and  on  the  same  testimony. 
But  the  third  truth — namely,  that  these 
truths  are,  as  all  truths  must  be,  per- 
fectly consistent  the  one  with  the  other 
— we  may,  or  may  not,  be  able  satisfac- 
torily to  establish  this  :  but  then  you 
must  all  see  that  our  inability  to  advance 
to  a -higher  demonstration,  or  to  give 
proof  on  a  more  intricate  point,  in  no 
degree  affects  what  has  been  already  ■ 
determined,  but  rather  leaves  in  their 
integrity  the  positions  which  we  suc- 
ceeded in  reaching. 


112 


PILATE  S  WIFE. 


You  will  find  it  very  important  to  bear 
this  in  mind  in  the  study  of  Scripture  : 
for  men  are  apt  to  think  that  they  must 
not  only  establish  separate  truths,  but 
prevail  to  the  showing  how  harmonious- 
ly they  combine  :  and  if  baffled  in  this 
latter  endeavor,  they  will  take  it  as  evi- 
dence of  something  wrong  in  their  pre- 
vious conclusions.  Whereas  this  is  far 
enough  from  being  necessarily  the  case  : 
they  may  have  been  quite  right  in  the 
respective  things  determined,  though 
those  things  form  a  paradox  which  they 
are  not  able  to  remove  :  a  jjaradox  is 
not  necessarily  a  contradiction,  but  may 
consist  of  true  affirmations,  each  demon- 
strable on  its  own  grounds,  though 
there  may  be  appearance  of  opposition 
between  the  two. 

And  in  regard  to  the  particular  case 
which  has  given  rise  to  these  remarks, 
you  have  evidence  the  most  decisive, 
that  God  has  nothinorto  do  with  causino- 
the  wicked  actions  which  He  overrules 
or  employs,  but  that  all  the  guilt  rests 
with  men,  even  when  they  appear  in- 
dispensable to  the  bringing  round  a 
Divine  purpose.  You  can  imagine  no- 
thing more  fixed  or  pi-edetermined,  than 
that  Christ  should  be  rejected  by  his 
own  nation,  and  finally  put  to  death 
through  their  instrumentality.  To  sup- 
pose the  Jews  receiving,  in  place  of  re- 
jecting, their  Messiah,  acknowledging 
his  pretensions,  and  giving  Him  their 
allegiance  instead  of  their  scorn,  is  ap- 
parently to  suppose  the  Divine  plan 
frustrated,  and  the  whole  scheme  of 
our  redemption  brought  to  a  stand. 
Yet  you  know  that  Christ  continued  to 
the  end  entreating  his  countrymen,  en- 
deavoring by  every  possible  means  to 
lead  them  to  repentance,  dealing  with 
them  as  with  those  who  were  perfectly 
free  to  own  Him  as  their  Savior,  and 
whose  unbelief  He  ardently  longed  to 
overcome.  And  you  cannot  doubt  the 
thorough  honesty,  if  we  may  use  the 
word,  of  all  the  entreaty  and  exhorta- 
tion brought  to  bear  upon  the  Jews  ; 
though  you  may  have  a  difficulty  in  un- 
derstanding how  they  could  be  employ- 
ed in  the  face  of  a  known  certainty  that 
the  Jews  would  persevere  in  their  wick- 
edness, and  that  such  perseverance  was 
the  appointed  instrumentality  through 
which  would  be  wrought  the  oblation 
of  Christ.  It  is  equally  true  that  God 
reckoned,  so  to  speak,  on   the   wicked- 


ness of  the  Jews,  so  that,  in  one 
sense,  you  might  call  their  wickedness 
fixed  or  unavoidable  ;  and  that  He 
acted  towards  them  as  quite  free  to 
choose,  so  that,  in  another  sense,  their 
wickedness  must  have  been  altogether 
wilful.  And  if  you  are  perplexed  by 
any  appearance  of  contrariety  between 
these  statements,  you  are  not,  on  that 
account,  as  we  have  already  explained, 
to  cast  doubt  on  either  the  one  or  the 
other  ;  for  the  truths  of  the  wickedness 
having  been  so  foreknown  that  it  might 
be  reckoned  on  as  an  instrument,  and 
of  its  having  been  so  voluntary  that  it 
was  wrought  against  remonstrance,  and 
that  remonstrance  as  sincere  as  it  was 
urgent,  rest  each  on  unquestionable 
grounds,  and  are  noways  affected  by 
any  difficulty  in  the  proof  of  their 
agreement. 

And  you  have  an  equally,  if  not  a 
more,  striking  instance  in  the  history  of 
Pilate.  It  was  not  enough,  as  you  all 
know,  that  Jesus  should  die  ;  He  was  to 
die  as  a  criminal,  that  He  might  exhaust 
our  curse  through  being  made  a  curse 
for  us.  And  He  had  Himself  expressly 
marked  out  crucifixion  as  the  mode  of 
his  decease  :  so  that  to  suppose  Him 
put  to  death  in  any  othei  manner  would 
be  to  suppose  prophecy  defeated,  and 
redemption  unaccomplished.  But  He 
could  not  have  been  crucified  except 
through  the  instrumentality  of  the  Ro- 
mans ;  for  it  was  a  Roman,  and  not  a 
Jewish,  mode  of  execution,  and  requir- 
ed, in  the  largest  sense,  the  authority  of 
the  governor.  So  that  here  you  have  a 
case  in  which  you  might  almost  say  that 
the  wickedness  of  an  individual  was  in- 
dispensable to  the  purposes  of  God. 
You  cannot  see  how  the  plan  of  human 
deliverance  could  have  goue  forward,  on 
the  supposition  that  Pilate  had  been 
firm  in  defending  our  Lord.  It  rested 
altogether  with  Pilate  whether  or  no 
Christ  should  be  crucified  :  and  it  rest- 
ed, so  to  speak,  on  the  crucifixion, 
whether  or  no  the  world  should  be  re- 
deemed. And  nevertheless  there  was 
no  leaving  Pilate  to  himself,  no  with- 
drawing from  him  the  ordinary  agencies 
through  which  God  is  wont  to  influence 
the  will  of  his  creatures.  On  the  con- 
trary, extraordinary  agency  was  em- 
ployed in  addition  to  ordinary,  as  though 
God  had  resolved  to  try  every  possible 
means   of  withholding  Pilate  from  the 


PILATE  S   WIFE. 


113 


gin  which  you  pronounce  indispensa- 
ble :  it  was  not  enouorh.  that  conscience 
Bhould  be  in  full  play,  though  this  of  it- 
self might  have  proved  that  God  was 
not  the  author  of  the  evil  which  He  made 
subservient  to  his  purposes — a  super- 
natural vision  was  vouchsafed,  and 
God  actually  departed  from  the  com- 
mon course  of  his  providence,  that  He 
might  warn  the  wavering  Roman,  and 
strengthen  him  to  do  right. 

We  do  not  know  that  you  can  any- 
where find  a  more  singular  fact.  On  the 
one  hand,  you  have  the  whole  scheme 
of  redemption  dependent,  we  may  say, 
on  Pilate's  ordering  the  crucifixion  of 
Christ;  on  the  other,  you  have  a  direct 
interference  of  God,  to  procure  that 
Pilate  should  order  his  release.  There 
is  no  denying  the  appearance  of  contra- 
diction; but  the  known  attributes  of 
God  are  our  pledge  that  there  is  but  the 
appearance,  and  not  the  reality.  We 
must  again  have  recourse  to  the  rule 
which  has  been  established,  and  not 
think  it  reason  for  questioning  either  of 
two  truths,  that  we  cannot  prove  their 
agreement,  which  is  a  third  and  a  deep- 
er. It  was  foreknown  by  God — and 
the  foreknowledge  made  the  event  as 
certain  as  a  positive  decree — that  Pi- 
late would  yield  to  the  clamor  of  the 
Jews,  and  surrender  Christ  to  their  ma- 
lice. But  this  did  not  prevent  God 
from  usingr  extraordinary  as  well  as  or- 
dinary  means  to  procure  the  opposite 
result,  and  keep  back  Pilate  from  the 
commission  of  an  aggravated  sin.  You 
may  find  it  difficult  to  understand  how 
the  foreknowledge  could  consist  with 
the  endeavor  to  prevent ;  but  both  are 
definitely  stated  ;  and  neither  is  affected 
by  an  apparent  opposition  to  the  other. 

And  the  great  practical  truth  which 
ought  to  be  derived  from  such  an  in- 
stance is,  that,  however  our  actions  have 
been  foreknown  and  overruled  by  God, 
we  shall  be  answerable  for  them,  as  re- 
sulting from  our  own  will,  and  wrought 
in  opposition  to  sufficient  warning  and 
instruction.  God  foreknows  which  of 
you  will  perish  ;  and  He  may  reckon 
on  the  final  impenitence  of  any  one  in 
this  assembly  as  a  fixed,  inevitable  thing, 
and  employ  it  in  some  way  as  an  instru- 
ment for  the  effecting  his  purposes. 
But  nevertheless  that  individual  is  under 
no  invincible  constraint :  he  is  free  to 
choose  :   and  his  final  impenitence  will 


result  only  from  his  own  refusal  to  be 
saved.  And  to  make  this  clear,  clear 
hereafter  before  angels  and  men,  God, 
you  may  be  sure,  will  act  on  that  indi- 
vidual through  the  agencies  of  his  Gos- 
pel, not  letting  him  alone  because  bent 
on  destruction,  but  plying  him  with 
warnings  that  he  may  be  left  without 
excuse.  The  mere  foreknowledge  can 
have  no  effect  on  the  man's  actions  :  if 
it  operated  at  all,  it  could  only  be  as 
withholding  God  from  imparting  as- 
sistances which  He  foresaw  would  be 
of  no  avail.  But  it  does  not  thus  ope- 
rate :  God  evidently  acts  towards  you  as 
if  He  foreknew  nothing  of  your  peni- 
tence or  impenitence,  but  had  only  the 
part  of  a  moral  governor  to  perform, 
who  would  furnish  his  subjects  with 
every  inducement  to  do  right,  and  cut  off 
from  them  every  excuse  fordoing  wrong. 
You  may  wonder  how  God  can  thus,  as 
it  were,  in  one  sense  make  no  use  of 
his  foreknowledge,  whilst  in  another  He 
is  ordering  all  his  purposes  by  its 
showings  ;  and  you  may  feel,  and  per- 
haps with  great  justice,  that  no  created 
being  could  persevere  in  using  the 
same  means,  where  sure  to  fail,  and 
where  sure  to  succeed.  But  God  is  not 
a  created  being  :  his  ways  are  not  our 
ways,  neither  are  his  thoughts  our 
thoughts.  And  you  are  to  believe,  how- 
ever unable  you  may  be  to  solve  the 
questions  which  the  fact  will  suggest, 
that  God  takes  means  to  provide  for  its 
being  proved  at  the  judgment,  that  those 
very  actions,  which  He  had  all  along 
foreseen  and  ordained  to  overrule,  were 
wrought  in  despite  of  the  remonstrance 
of  his  Spirit,  and  in  opposition  to  as 
much  of  restraining  agency  as  could 
possibly  consist  with  human  accounta- 
bleness. 

It  will  be  impossible  then,  for  any 
one  to  take  refuge  in  God's  foreknowl- 
edge of  his  sins,  as  having  made  them 
unavoidable.  The  case  of  Pilate  is  a 
witness  ;  and  we  may  regard  it  as  writ- 
ten to  prevent  our  entertaining  the  false 
hope.  You  can  imagine  no  instance  in 
which  a  man  might  more  speciously 
plead,  that  there  lay  a  constraint  upon 
him,  or  that  he  was  under  a  kind  of  ne- 
cessity to  commit  a  great  sin.  What, 
when  the  sin  was  to  be  instrumental  to 
the  redemption  of  humankind,  when  it 
had  entered  from  all  eternity  into  the 
calculations  of  God,  so  that  its  preveri- 

15 


114 


PILATE  S  WIFE. 


tion  would  have  deranged  the  whole 
scheme  of  deliverance,  is  the  perpe- 
trator to  he  visited  with  vengeance,  as 
though  there  were  nothing  to  excuse 
him  in  the  predeterminations  of  which 
the  sin  was  the  subject  1  Nay,  there 
was  nothing  to  excuse  him.  He  was 
not  forced  to  commit  the  sin  through  its 
being  foreknown  that  he  would  commit 
it.  The  foreknowledge  left  him  as  free 
as  though  there  had  been  no  foreknowl- 
edge.  It  laid  no  weight  upon  con- 
science ;  for  conscience  was  in  full  vi- 
gor, and  remonstrated  with  all  the 
energy  of  the  vicegerent  of  God — ay, 
and  as  though  this  had  not  been  enough, 
but  the  guilty  Roman  might  have  still 
pleaded  that  there  was  not  sufficient 
motive  to  withhold  him  from  the  fore- 
known commission,  God  departed  from 
every  ordinary  rule,  interfered  in  a  su- 
pernatural manner,  and  caused  that,  so 
soon  as  Pilate  took  his  place  on  the  judg- 
ment seat,  his  wife  sent  to  him  to  tell  him 
of  a  vision  respecting  Christ,  and  to 
beseech  him  that  he  would  have  nothing 
to  do  with  that  just  or  righteous  man. 

But  we  will  now  pass  from  the  more 
intricate  to  the  simpler  parts  of  our 
subject,  exhorting  you,  however,  to  pon- 
der at  your  leisure  the  very  remarkable 
evidence  which  is  furnished  to  your  be- 
ing accountable  for  actions  which  God 
foresees  and  overrules,  by  there  having 
been  a  Divine  interposition  to  withhold 
Pilate,  if  possible,  from  crucifying 
Christ.  We  wish  now  to  bring  you  to 
observe  how  the  method  used  by  God 
was  eminently  fitted  to  prevail  with  the 
Roman  governor,  and  how,  therefore,  it 
cut  off  all  excuse  when  he  gave  up  Je- 
sus to  the  multitude. 

It  may  at  once  occur  to  you  as  in  some 
respects  singular,  that  the  vision  was  to 
Pilate's  wife,  and  not  to  Pilate  himself. 
Why  was  there  this  indirect  communi- 
cation 1  Why,  when  the  object  was  to 
influence  the  mind  of  the  governor,  was 
he  not  himself  startled  by  portentous 
dreams,  and  scared  by  terrible  imagery, 
flitting  to  and  fro  in  the  silence  of  the 
night  ]  Would  not  the  admonitions  have 
been  more  likely  to  prevail,  if  thus  direct- 
ly conveyed  with  every  fearful  accompa- 
niment, than  when  received  second-hand, 
and  therefore  necessarily  divested  of 
what  gave  them  their  impressiveness  1 
We  can  only  say,  that  this  would  greatly 
depend  on  points  in  Pilate's  character 


with  which  we  have  not  full  acquaintance, 
and  that  we  are  bound  to  conclude  that 
God  took  the  course  which  was  best 
adapted,  on  the  whole,  to  the  circumstan- 
ces of  the  case.  You  are  to  observe 
that,  as  the  supernatural  message  came 
through  Pilate's  wife,  there  may  have 
been  furnished  a  double  motive  to  the 
governor  :  in  addition  to  obedience 
to  the  vision,  there  may  have  been 
the  desire  of  pleasing  the  party  to 
whom  it  had  been  granted :  and  thus 
the  inducement,  when  you  take  the 
two  things  together,  may  have  been 
stronger  than  had  the  dream  been  that  of 
Pilate  himself.  The  attachment  of  Pilate 
to  his  wife  may  have  been  great  :  they 
may  have  been  knit  together  by  the 
bonds  of  a  very  close  affection  :  and  on 
such  a  supposition,  it  is  possible,  and 
even  probable,  that  the  terrors  of  the 
vision  would  have  been  more  effective 
upon  Pilate,  as  conveyed  to  him  through 
the  tears  and  entreaties  of  her  whom  he 
loved,  than  had  they  burst  upon  him  in 
their  unearthliness,  with  all  the  demon- 
strations of  superhuman  agency.  It 
would  not  necessarily  be  so  in  every 
case  :  but  it  is  altogether  supposable 
that  it  might  be  so  in  a  case  of  strong 
personal  attachment :  and  since  we  have 
nothing  from  which  to  conclude  that  this 
does  not  define  the  case  of  Pilate  and 
his  wife,  we  must  be  warranted  in 
thinking  that  God  took  the  course  which 
He  adopted,  because  the  Roman  govern- 
or was  most  accessible  through  the  chan- 
nel of  his  affections. 

And  it  is  on  such  a  supposition,  and 
under  such  a  point  of  view,  that  the  in- 
cident in  question  is  most  replete  with 
what  is  striking  and  instructive.  We 
have  already  said  enough  to  prove  to 
you  that  God,  in  his  dealings  with  Pilate, 
was  providing  for  his  own  vindication, 
storing  up  the  material  of  evidence  that 
this  Roman  sinned  against  light  and  con- 
viction, and  therefore  brought  upon  him- 
self all  the  guiltiness  of  actions  which 
were  to  subserve  the  most  glorious  of 
purposes.  Since  the  foreknown  wicked- 
ness of  Pilate  was  to  be  instrumental  to 
the  greatest  end  which  even  God  Him- 
self had  ever  proposed — the  rescue  of 
this  fallen  creation — it  would  seem  to 
have  been  important  that  this  wicked- 
ness should  be  clearly  shown  to  hare 
been  altogether  wilful,  resulting  entirely 
from  the  depravity  of  the  creature,  and 


PILATE  S  WIFE. 


115 


not  at  all  from  the  determination  of  the 
Creator.  It  was  not  therefore  thought 
sufficient,  that  conscience  should  give 
forth  its  utterances  with  more  than  com- 
mon distinctness  :  God  would  do  some- 
thing which  should  leave  no  place  for 
cavil,  and  which,  if  Pilate  could  with- 
stand it,  would  but  prove  that  nothing 
consistent  with  human  accountableness 
would  have  withheld  him  from  crucify- 
ing Christ.  And  what  shall  this  he  1 
Something  supernatural  undoubtedly  : 
for  God  had  before  acted  upon  men 
through  visions  and  apparitions ;  and, 
therefore,  whilst  these  were  untried,  it 
could  hardly  be  affirmed  that  the  utmost 
had  been  done  in  the  instance  of  Pilate. 
Shall  then  a  spirit  pass  before  Pilate,  as 
one  had  passed  before  Eliphaz,  causing 
his  knees  to  tremble,  and  the  hair  of  his 
flesh  to  stand,  up  1  or  shall  one  of  the 
dead  be  disquieted,  and  rise  as  rose 
Samuel  in  the  cave  of  the  sorceress? 
Indeed,  there  shall  be  the  employment 
of  vision,  and  imagery  of  terror  shall  be 
used  to  impress  the  fearfulness  of  taking 
part  against  Christ.  But  nevertheless, 
the  spirit  shall  not  pass  before  Pilate 
himself,  and  the  forms  of  terror  shall  not 
meet  his  own  troubled  gaze.  God  seeks 
to  make  the  communication  yet  more 
effective  than  it  could  be  made  by  the 
wild  phantom  and  the  mysterious  voice ; 
and  therefore  He  makes  it  not  to  Pilate, 
but  to  Pilate's  wife,  to  whom  he  was 
linked  by  very  strong  attachment.  He 
made  his  final  effort  on  this  Roman — the 
effort  which  was  to  give  convincing  de- 
monstration at  the  judgment  of  Pilate's 
inexcusableness — through  the  medium 
of  his  affections,  calculating  that  there 
would  be  less  power  in  the  apparition 
itself,  than  in  the  effect  of  that  apparition 
on  one  tenderly  beloved  ;  and  that  even 
if  Pilate  might  throw  off  the  influence  of 
a  vision  as  sent  in  awfulness  to  himself, 
he  would  yield  to  it  when  presented  in 
the  fears  and  beseechings  of  her  who  had 
his  heart.  And  if  this  be  a  true  account 
of  the  proceeding  in  question  ;  if  it  were 
to  Pilate's  wife,  rather  than  to  Pilate 
himself,  that  the  vision  was  sent,  because 
the  assault  was  thus  through  his  affec- 
tions, and  the  man,  not  accessible  through 
his  affections,  may  be  given  up  as  lost ; 
indeed  we  shall  have  no  difficulty  in 
showing  the  repetition  of  the  case,  and 
drawing  inferences  which  should  go 
home  to  many  in  this  assembly. 


It  is  far,  very  far  from  an  unfrequent 
thing,  that  God  causes  his  warnings  and 
reproofs  to  be  conveyed,  so  to  speak, 
through  the  channel  of  the  affections. 
It  is  the  case,  in  a  measure,  whensoever 
one  member  of  a  family  is  religiously 
impressed,  and  studies  to  convey  the 
impression  to  the  rest.  It  is  the  case 
when  parents  strive  to  train  their  chil- 
dren in  the  fear  of  God ;  for  all  the  filial 
feelings  may  then  be  said  to  be  enlisted 
on  the  side  of  piety.  It  is  the  case 
when  children  are  beyond  their  parents 
in  godliness,  so  that  Christianity  is  car- 
ried to  the  father  and  the  mother  through 
the  beautiful  examples,  and  the  modest 
statements,  of  the  son  or  the  daughter. 
It  is  yet  more  emphatically  the  case, 
when  either  the  husband  or  the  wife  is 
stirred  with  anxiety  for  the  soul,  and 
beseeches  the  other  to  take  heed  of  cru- 
cifying the  Son  of  God  afresh.  There 
is  no  denying  the  commonness  of  these 
cases  :  they  are  continually  occurring  in 
every  neighborhood,  and  we  are  quite 
sure  that  examples  of  each  kind  might 
be  found  amongst  yourselves.  And  we 
wish  you  to  understand,  that,  whenso- 
ever they  occur,  God  may  be  regarded 
as  making  a  special  effort  to  overcome 
impenitence  and  unbelief,  and  as  em- 
ploying an  engine  which  is  among  the 
last  and  most  powerful  that  He  ever 
brings  to  bear  upon  men.  If  He  make 
no  way  when  He  attacks  through  the 
affections,  it  is  hardly  to  be  expected 
that  He  will  ever  prevail :  there  remains 
no  more  likely  method  :  and  the  proba- 
bility is,  that  the  great  moral  change 
will  never  be  wrought. 

We  would  press  this  on  the  attention 
of  those  of  you  whose  circumstances 
may  at  all  bring  them  under  our  fore- 
going descriptions.  Children  who  have 
religious  parents — God  has  sent  the  vi- 
sion of  immortality  to  those  who  gave 
you  life,  and  not,  in  the  first  instance,  to 
yourselves  :  but  this  is  because  there  is 
no  channel  through  which  Christian 
truths  can  reach  you  so  advantageously 
as  through  that  of  parental  instruction, 
through  the  warm  words  of  a  father,  or 
the  warmer  tears  of  a  mother  :  and  you 
are  to  bethink  yourselves,  that,  if  the 
truths,  thus  communicated,  fail  to  make 
impression,  you  are  not  to  reckon  on 
any  mightier  instrumentality.  Parents, 
again,  who  have  religious  children,  into 
whose  households  piety  has  gained  en- 


116 


PILATE  S   WIFE. 


trance,    but    not  through    yourselves — 
the  dream,   which  has    given    warning 
of  the  peril  of  neglecting  the  soul,  has 
not  invaded,  your  own  slumber,  but  that 
of  those  in  whom  you  have  garnered  up 
the  heart :  and  you  are  to  consider  that 
this  course  has   been   followed,  because 
there   was   less    probability  of  your  re- 
sisting the  claims  of  the  Gospel,  as  pre- 
sented   to   you   by   the  objects  of  deep 
love.     If,  then,   you  can  be  irreligious 
with  religion  personified  in  a  son  or  a 
daughter,    alas !    we  can    scarcely  dare 
hope  that  you  will  ever  be  won  over  to 
God.     And  the  husband,  who  is  yet  de- 
voted to  the  present  perishable   world, 
but    whose    wife    has    been    roused    to 
provide  for  eternity,  and  who  tells  him 
of  those    visions    of  the    future    which 
startled  her  from  her  lethargy,  and  en- 
treats   him  to  join  with  her  in   fleeing 
wrath  to  come — we  see  in  this  man  not 
one  from  whom  God  withholds  the  vi- 
sion, but  rather  one  to  whom  He  sends 
it  in  the  mode  best  adapted  to  convince  : 
and  if  it  be  to   no  purpose  that  she,  to 
whom  he  is  bound  by  the  closest  of  hu- 
man ties,  becomes  to  him,  as  it  were,  the 
medium  of  communication  from  the  in- 
visible world,  the  minister  may  well  fear 
that    his    preaching    will    be  vain,  and 
that  he  shall  never  be  gladdened  by  that 
husband's  conversion. 

We  are  advancing  nothing  at  vari- 
ance with  the  important  truth  which  we 
often  feel  it  necessary  to  press  on  your 
attention,  namely,  that  it  is  through  the 
public  ministrations  of  the  Gospel  that 
God  ordinarily  turns  men  from  darkness 
to  light.  We  are  only  sketching  to  you 
a  result  of  those  public  ministrations,  and 
considering  its  effects  on  others  beside 
its  more  immediate  subjects.  And  we 
are  bound  to  tell  you,  that  we  look  with 
the  most  melancholy  apprehension  on 
that  family  or  household,  one  of  whose 
members  has  been  converted  through 
the  preaching  of  the  word,  whilst  the 
others  continue  careless  and  worldly- 
minded.  At  the  first  moment,  we  hail 
with  delight  the  conversion  of  one,  and 
eagerly  anticipate  that  the  little  leaven 
will  leaven  the  whole  lump.  But 
when  we  observe  that  no  salutary  ef- 
fect is  wrought  upon  the  mass,  we 
have  less  hope  than  ever  that  good  will 
be  accomplished  through  future  preach- 
ings of  the  Gospel,  and  almost  regard 
the  unconverted  members  as  shut  up  to 


final  impenitence.    It  has  to  us  all  the  air 
of  a  last  attempt,  when  the  preacher  has 
been  enabled  to  overcome  the  unbelief 
of  some  one  in   the  household,    and  so 
may  be  said  to  have  sent  that  one  as  his 
messenger  to  the  rest,   to  warn  and  to 
beseech  them  not  to  fight   against  God. 
It  is  the  attempt  through   the  affections 
— the  attempt  upon  Pilate  through   the 
entreaties  and  forebodings  of  his  wife. 
There  may  be  other  attempts,  and — for 
there  is  nothing  too  hard  for  the  Lord — 
the  strongholds  of  unbelief  may  yet  be 
cast  down.     But  as  a  general  rule,  we 
believe,    that,  where  vital  religion  has 
made   way  into   a  household,  and  does 
not  spread,   there  is  cause  for  a  more 
than  common  fear  that  it  has  won  its 
only  victory.     When  the  parent  is  con- 
verted, but  can   effect  nothing  against 
the  ungodliness  of  the  child  ;   when  the 
child  is  converted,  but  sets  in  vain  be- 
fore the  parent  the  truths  of  Christiani- 
ty ;  when  the  wife  hearkens  to  the  sum- 
mons of  the  Gospel,  but  cannot  persuade 
the  husband  to  be  one  with  her  in  seek- 
ing rest  beyond  the  grave  ;  or  the  hus- 
band renounces   the  world,  but  cannot 
induce  the  wife  to  join  him  in  breaking 
away  from  its  fascinations — oh,  it  may 
seem  a  harsh  thing  to  say,  but  the  child, 
or  the  parent,  or  the  husband,  or  the 
wife,  who  can  thus  resist  the  claims  of 
religion,  when  urged  through  the  chan- 
nel which  goes  directly  to  the  heart,  ap- 
pears  to  us  to   be   closing   up  the  last 
path  of  escape,  and  almost  insuring  the 
dying  unconverted.     Depend  upon  it,  it 
is  a  fearful  thing  to  have  your  affections 
engaged,  so  to  speak,  on  the  side  of  re- 
ligion, and  yet  religion  to  gain  no  hold 
on  your  affections. 

Let  this  be  pondered,  we  entreat,  by 
those  of  you  who  may  be  conscious  to 
themselves  that  they  are  being  attacked 
through  what  we  define  as  the  avenue 
of  the  affections.  Let  them  not  think 
that  it  might  be  better  for  them  if  they 
were  acted  on  more  immediately  through 
the  ministrations  of  the  Gospel ;  so  that, 
as  the  preacher  launched  forth  his  ora- 
tory, the  terrors  of  the  future  world 
might  crowd  their  imaginations,  and  the 
Judge  of  humankind  rise  before  their 
vision,  seated  awfully  on  his  throne  of 
fire  and  of  cloud.  Let  them  rather  think, 
that  it  may  be  on  account  of  its  greater 
probable  efficiency,  that  God  tries  the 
method  of  rousing  a  near  kinsman,  and 


PILATE  S   WIFE. 


117 


then  employing  that  kinsman  to  operate 
upon  them,  so  that,  in  withstanding  this 
process  of  attack,  they  only  show  that 
no  other  would  prevail.  And  let  them 
consider  whether  this  may  not  be  illus- 
trated by  the  instance  of  Pilate,  Pilate 
of  whom  we  may  say  that  Clod  designed 
to  use  the  strongest  possible  means  of 
withholding  him  from  the  guilt  of  cru- 
cifying Christ,  and  yet  of  whom  we 
read,  not  that  his  own  slumber  was 
broken  by  a  supernatural  visitation,  but 
only  that,  when  he  was  set  down  on  the 
judgment  seat,  his  wife  sent  unto  him 
to  tell  him  of  an  agonizing  dream,  and 
to  beseech  him  to  have  nothing  to  do 
with  that  righteous  man  Christ. 

But  now  we  would  wish  you  to  ob- 
serve how  greatly  it  increased  the  cri- 
minality of  Pilate,  that  the  message  of 
his  wife  reached  him  at  the  very  mo- 
ment of  his  taking  his  place  on  the 
judgment  seat.  It  would  seem  that  he 
had  left  his  palace  without  hearing  any 
thing  of  the  dream — nay,  that  the  dream 
had  not  then  been  vouchsafed — for  you 
will  observe  how  the  communication 
runs,  "I  have  suffered  many  things  tliis 
day  in  a  dream  because  of  him."  The 
dream  had  not  come  in  the  nigfht,  the 
ordinary  season  for  such  modes  of  reve- 
lation, but  in  the  day — so  that  there  was 
probably  something  altogether  superna- 
tural about  the  vision,  leaving  no  room 
for  doubt  in  Pilate's  wife  that  God  had 
indeed  interfered  to  attest  Christ's  inno- 
cence, and  to  give  warning  as  to  the 
danger  of  using  Him  injuriously.  And 
Pilate,  receiving  so  sudden  and  unex- 
pected a  message,  must  have  more 
strongly  felt  a  Divine  interposition,  than 
had  he  heard  in  the  morning  some  mar- 
vellous story  of  a  strange  impression  on 
the  mind  duringthe  usual  hours  of  sleep. 
He  must  have  perceived  that  something 
extraordinary  had  happened  :  the  vision 
had  evidently  been  so  timed,  that  the  ti- 
dings might  reach  him  when  he  could 
least  question  their  authority,  and  stood 
most  in  need  Of  their  import.  And  this, 
as  we  have  said,  greatly  heightens  Pi- 
late's guilt :  whatsover  power  the  vision 
could  have,  was  brought  to  bear  upon 
him  at  the  precise  moment  when  he 
most  required  aid:  and  you  may  see 
that  the  whole  thing  was  ordered,  so 
as  to  afford  him  the  strongest  possible 
assurance  that  there  had  come  a  warn- 
ing from  God,  and  to  afford  it  him  when 


it  was  most  likely  to  strengthen  him  to 
do  right. 

Of  course,  it  would  in  a  measure  pal- 
liate his  conduct,  if  you  could  show  that 
he  had  reason  to  doubt  the  fact  of  a  su- 
pernatural communication,  or  if  there 
had  been  nothing  to  force  the  fact  on  his 
attention  at  the  exact  moment  when 
conscience  required  an  auxiliary.  But 
though  he  had  no  power  of  examining 
the  alleged  communication,  it  was  im- 
possible for  him  not  to  feel  that  some- 
thing very  singular  had  occurred.  His 
wife,  whom  he  had  left  but  a  short  time 
before,  undisturbed  by  any  thoughts  as 
to  Christ,  would  never  have  sent  him  so 
strange  a  message  and  entreaty,  had 
there  not  been  actually  what  looked  like 
the  interference  of  God  :  and  it  was 
precisely  when  his  own  convictions  were 
urging  him  to  release  Christ,  that  there 
came  to  him  a  testimony  to  his  inno- 
cence, which  ought  itself  to  have  nerved 
him  to  the  resisting  the  popular  will. 

We  quite  believe  that  the  same  accu- 
rate timing  of  warning  and  admonition 
is  to  be  traced  in  the  experience  of  all, 
so  that,  if  any  one  of  you  would  care- 
fully observe  how  things  fall  out  when 
he  is  exposed  to  temptation,  he  would 
hud  proof  that  God  sends  him  seasona- 
ble aids,  and  disposes  events  to  the 
strengthening  him  to  resist  and  over- 
come. Certainly,  if  He  took  care  that 
Pilate  should  receive  a  message,  just  as 
he  ascended  the  tribunal  whence  he 
would  be  tempted  to  deliver  a  wrong 
verdict,  He  will  not  leave  without  the 
appropriate  assistance  any  of  those,  who, 
being  brought  into  perilous  circumstan- 
ces, are  sincerely  desirous  to  keep  un- 
sullied their  Christian  profession.  And 
in  regard  of  others,  who  are  "  led  cap- 
tive by  Satan  at  his  will,"  they  have 
often  to  overcome  obstacles  which  seem 
thrown  suddenly,  and  as  of  set  purpose, 
in  the  way  of  their  attaining  the  grati- 
fication of  their  passions.  They  have 
only  to  note  the  difficulties  which  unex- 
pectedly arise,  and  warn  them  back 
from  some  object  on  which  they  are 
bent,  to  confess  that  it  is  as  though  an 
invisible  Being  watched  the  opportunity, 
and  pressed  upon  them  with  a  motive 
to  do  right,  exactly  at  the  turning-point 
where  the  risk  became  greatest  of  their 
determining  to  do  wrong. 

But  even  if  these  special  interposi- 
tions cannot  be  traced,  you   are   to  re- 


118 


PILATE  S  WIFE. 


member  that  the  whole  judicature  of 
conscience  is  constructed  on  the  princi- 
ple of  counsel  being  administered  at  the 
precise  moment  when  temptation  is  ur- 
gent. This  is  one  of  those  peculiarities 
iti  conscience  which  will  make  it  so  stern 
a  witness  against  every  man  who  dies  in 
his  sins.  It  is  not  in  moments  of  calm 
reflection  alone  that  conscience  delivers 
a  verdict  on  this  or  that  action  ;  just  as 
a  friend,  with  whom  we  hold  serious 
discourse,  may  offer  opinions  and  ten- 
der advice.  If  this  were  the  whole 
course  of  conscience,  we  should  have 
nothing  to  appeal  to  in  any  sudden 
emergence  but  certain  registered  de- 
cisions, which  it  might  be  hard  to  recall, 
or  at  least,  to  invest  with  any  influence, 
amid  the  urgent  pleadings  of  pas- 
sion or  interest.  But  conscience  ten- 
ders its  remonstrance  precisely  at  the 
moment  when  temptation  plies  us  with 
its  bait  :  the  two  things  occur  together 
as  though  the  one  produced  the  other — 
the  message,  which  ought  to  influence 
the  verdict,  is  delivered  at  the  instant  of 
ascending  the  judgment  seat.  It  is  not 
the  result  of  any  process  of  argument 
which  is  announced  to  you  through  the 
pleadings  of  conscience  :  you  cannot 
tell  whence  the  unseen  monitor  has 
sprung  ;  but  there  is  no  debate  as  to  his 
presence  ;  and  the  voice  compels  an  au- 
dience, even  where  there  is  the  mosl 
set  determination  of  acting  counter  to 
its  suggestions.  And  this,  as  we  have 
said,  will  make  conscience  the  most  fear- 
ful of  witnesses  against  every  man  who 
persists  in  his  wickedness.  He  must 
have  carried  with  him  into  every  scene 
of  iniquity  the  remonstrating  principle  ; 
and  as  he  went  after  his  unrighteous- 
ness, he  left  not  behind  his  counsellor 
and  reprover;  but  that  counsellor  and 
reprover  was  continually  at  his  side,  re- 
fusing to  part  company,  urging  advice 
in  the  precise  instant  of  dinger,  only  to 
be  silenced  as  a  monitor  by  the  commis- 
sion of  the  sin,  and  then  to  wake  up 
immediately  as  an  avenger. 

We  are  willing  therefore  to  put  out  of 
sight  those  strange  interferences  which 
may  be  traced,  we  believe,  in  every  man's 
history,  and  which  give  evidence  of  a 
watchful  Providence,  ever  anxious  to  cast 
obstacles  in  the  way  of  the  sinner,  and  to 
furnish  him  with  fresh  motives  to  do  ri"ht 
at  the  moment  when  most  tempted  to  do 
wrong.      We    feel  confident  that   such 


interferences  are  frequently  made,  so  that 
there  is  much  in  the  experience  of  every 
one  of  us  which  is  accurately  parallel  to 
the  incident  under  review,  to  the  coming 
of  the  message  from  Pilate's  wife   pre- 
cisely when  Pilate  took  his  place  on  the 
judgment   seat.     But  we  will  not  insist 
on  this  fact  ;  for  it  is  a  fact  which  is  only 
to  be  established   in  individual  cases  by 
close  observation,  and  therefore  may  be 
easily  either  questioned  or  denied.      We 
confine  ourselves  altogether  to  the  juris- 
diction of  conscience,  conscience  which 
every  man  bears  about  in  his  own  breast, 
so  that  no  one  may  plead  that  he  knows 
nothing  of  its  existence.     We  declare  of 
this  principle,  that  it  is  its  very  nature 
to  be  most  energetic  when  there  is  most 
need  for  remonstrance,  and  to  deliver  its 
counsel  at  the  exact  moment  when  the 
individual  is  urged  by  temptation.     We 
know  not  how  this  comes  to  pass  :  it  is  as 
though  at  the  presence  of  danger  there 
started  forth  a  guardian  angel:  through 
some  most  beneficent  but    inexplicable 
arrangment,  you  have  only  to  set  the  foot 
in  a  perilous  place,  and  you  thereby  call 
up  an  adviser,  whose  counsel  is  certain  to 
be  for  your  safety.     But,  mysterious   as 
it   may   be,   such    is    actually  the  case  : 
through  no  tedious  process  of  ratiocina- 
tion or  deduction,  but  instantaneously, 
with  all  the  freshness  and  all  the  vehe- 
mence of  a  living  thing  which  had  been 
watching  an   opportunity  that   it   might 
pour  in  its  counsel,  does  consience  rise 
up  in  the  moment  of  temptation,  and,  by 
exhortation  and  threatening,  seek  to  with- 
hold   you   from    what    it   denounces    as 
wrong. 

And  therefore  will  there  be  something 
of  the  like  testimony  against  every  evil- 
doer, when  God  shall  sit  in  judgment 
upon  men,  as  against  Pilate  who  was  met 
by  the  message  from  his  wife  when  the 
Jews  were  urging  him  to  crucify  the 
Christ.  The  like  testimony — because 
that  evil-doer  had  equally  to  go  forward 
in  the  face  of  a  remonstrance,  and  to  per- 
petrate the  wrong  against  the  warning 
and  entreaty  of  the  most  intimate  asso- 
ciate. The  condemning  thing  with  Pilate 
was,  that  the  message  came  upon  him  in 
the  moment  of  emergence  :  had  it  come 
sooner,  the  effect  might  have  worn  oft", 
and  it  must  have  been  unavailing  if  later. 
And  the  condemning  thing  with  any  one 
of  us — so  far  as  conscience  has  to  do  with 
the  sentence — will  be,  that  we  were  warn- 


PILATE  S   WIFE. 


119 


ed  and  tempted  at  the  same  instant :  had 
the  warning  preceded  the  temptation,  we 
might  have  pleaded  that  it  was  weakened 
by  distance  ;  and  of  course,  had  it  follow- 
ed, it  could  not  have  aided  us  in  resist- 
ance. But  forasmuch  as  the  two  were 
contemporaneous,  the  temptation  seem- 
ing always  to  call  forth  the  warning, 
there  will  be  nothing  to  urge  in  our  own 
vindication  ;  no  more  than  with  Pilate, 
who,  on  taking  his  seat  as  a  judge,  re- 
ceived the  message  which  should  have 
bound  him  to  "judge  righteous  judg- 
ment." 

What  a  scene  will  it  be  when  this 
Roman  stands  forth  to  answer  for  him- 
self at  the  tribunal  of  Christ !  The 
judge  will  be  the  prisoner,  the  prisoner 
the  Judge.  Christ  was  arraigned  be- 
fore Pilate,  and  now  Pilate  must  be  ar- 
raigned before  Christ.  How  changed 
the  condition  of  the  two!  Who  can  re- 
bi  >gnize  in  that  majestic  form,  from  whose 
face  the  earth  and  the  heavens  flee  away, 
the  defenceless  Being,  who,  pursued  by 
the  imprecations  and  blasphemies  of  a 
desperate  multitude,  stood  meekly  before 
the  Roman/governor,  waiting  his  award 
of  life  or  of  death  \  Around  the  Roman 
were  then  all  the  tokens  of  power :  he 
bore  the  commission  of  the  mistress  of 
the  world,  and  seemed  to  have  absolute- 
ly at  his  disposal  the  persecuted  man 
whom  his  disciples  and  friends  had  for- 
saken in  the  hour  of  peril.  But  now 
that  persecuted  man  appears  as  "  King 
of  kings,  and  Lord  of  lords  : "  ten 
thousand  times  ten  thousand  angels  wait 
to  do  his  wdl  :  and  the  myriads  of  hu- 
man kind,  summoned  by  his  voice  from 
the  grave,  are  to  receive  from  his  de- 
cision eternal  allotments,  whether  of 
happiness  beyond  thought,  or  of  wretch- 
edness without  limit.  And  the  Roman 
is  there,  the  scornful  man  who  would 
not  wait  an  answer  to  his  own  solemn 
question,  "  what  is  truth  1"  the  coward- 
ly man,  who  would  not  stand  to  his  own 
conviction  of  right  ;  the  unjust  man,  who 
could  deliver  up  the  innocent  to  death  ; 
the  presumptuous,  self-deceiving  man, 
who  could  wash  his  hands  in  water,  and 
think  to  excuse  his  dipping  them  in 
blood.  He  will  know  that  awful  Being 
on  the  great  white  throne  :  he  will  re- 
peat to  himself  his  own  words  to  the 
Jews,  "  Behold  the  man  !  " — the  man 
on  whom  I  sat  as  judge,  the  man  whom 
I  surrendered  to  the  will  of  his  enemies, 


the  man  whom  I  knew  to  be  guiltless, 
but  whom  I  abandoned,  because  I  be- 
lieved Him  to  be  powerless,  unable  to 
avenge  an  insult,  or  punish  a  wrong. 
But  now,  in  place  of  a  crown  of  thorns, 
there  is  upon  his  head  the  diadem  of  the 
universe,  and,  instead  of  the  reed,  there 
is  the  rod  of  iron  in  his  hand,  with  which 
to  rule  the  nations,  so  that  "  as  the  ves- 
sels of  a  potter  shall  they  be  broken  to 
shivers." 

And  if  we  may  venture  to  go  yet  fur- 
ther in  anticipating  the  scenes  of  the 
judgment,  will  not  his  own  wife  be  a 
witness  against  Pilate  ?  will  she  not  be 
forced  to  declare  how  she  told  him  of  the 
terrors  which  had  been  wrought  into 
her  spirit,  through  some  mysterious  re- 
presentation, of  the  very  events  which 
are  then  coming  to  pass  1  and  will  not 
this  testimony,  even  if  corroborated  by 
no  other,  demand  and  justify  the  sen- 
tence of  condemnation,  and  drive  down 
the  criminal  to  the  lowest  depth  of  woe  1 

It  is  amomj  the  most  affecting  0f  the 
probabilities  which  belong  to  the  last 
judgment,  that  relations  and  friends  will 
have  part  in  giving  evidence  against  the 
impenitent  and  unbelieving.  It  must  be 
so,  where  the  assault  has  been  through 
the  channel  or  avenue  of  the  affections. 
We  do  not  know  how  you  can  avoid  the 
conclusion,  that  the  righteous  parent  will 
be  appealed  to  in  proof  of  the  inexcus- 
ableness  of  the  unrighteous  child  ;  and 
that  the  child  who  has  beautifully  ex- 
emplified the  truths  of  Christianity,  but 
gained  for  them  no  entrance  into  the 
breast  of  a  parent,  must  testify  against 
that  parent,  and  vindicate  his  condem- 
nation. And  it  will  not  be  the  wife  of 
Pilate  alone  that  shall  lift  her  voice 
against  her  husband.  Wheresover  hu- 
man  affections  and  ties  have  been  enlist- 
ed, so  to  speak,  on  the  side  of  religion, 
it  must  come  to  pass  that  the  sentence 
on  irreligion  will  be  justified  from  the 
witness  of  one  who  loved  and  was  be- 
loved, who  would  perhaps  have  given 
life  to  insure  happiness  to  the  party  that 
would  not  be  persuaded,  but  must,  nev- 
ertheless, attest  the  equity  of  the  doom 
which  consigns  that  party  to  the  fire  and 
the  worm.  Let  any  one,  on  whom  the 
duties  of  religion  are  pressed  through 
the  voice  of  one  deservedly  dear — 
whether  the  voice  of  parent,  or  of  child, 
or  of  husband,  or  of  wife — but  think  of 
that  voice  as  calling  down  eternal  judg- 


120 


THE  EXAMINATION  OF  CAIN. 


ment  hereafter,  if  those  duties  remain 
neglected  ;  and  possibly  there  will  be  a 
shrinking  from  what  it  is  so  fearful  to 
Contemplate,  and  a  determination,  in  the 
Strength  of  the  Lord,  to  seek  forthwith 
the  things  which  belong  unto  peace. 

Our  wish  for  the  yet  unconverted 
amongst  you  is,  that,  with  Pilate's  wife, 
you  might  be  made  to  suffer  many  things 
because  of  Christ.  O  for  the  vision  !  O 
for  the  dream  ! — the  vision  which  should 
scatter  every  other,  the  dream  which 
might  break  your  fatal  slumbers.  I 
know  not  what  the  dream  was  which 
roused  the  wife  of  Pilate.  But  it  was  a 
dream  of  terror — it  would  seem  of  un- 
mingled  terror  :  she  had  "  suffered  many 
things ;"  and  probably  the  Redeemer 
passed  before  her,  trampling  down  his 
enemies,  and  having  all  his  garments  red 
with  their  blood.  O  for  such  a  dream 
again  !  but  not  alone  :  we  would  have  it 
followed  by  a  different  vision,  a  vision 
of  this  terrible  Being  as  ready  to  save 
to  the  uttermost  all  who  come  unto  God 
through  Him.  And  it  will  be  thus  fob 
lowed  :  the  dread  of  the  wrath  of  the 


Lamb  must  produce  desire  for  his  favor; 
and  where  this  desire  exists,  it  will  urere 
to  those  endeavors  which  are  never  made 
in  sincerity,  but  they  are  made  with  suc- 
cess. We  want  you,  then,  to  be  visited 
with  a  vision  of  Judgment  to  come  :  and 
if  you  would  only  sit  down  to  a  calm  in- 
vestigation of  the  relation  in  which  you 
stand  to  the  moral  Governor  of  the  uni- 
verse, it  could  hardly  fail  but  that  the  vi- 
sion would  be  upon  you,  and  dread  and 
dark  things  come  crowding  from  the  fu- 
ture. And  if  in  every  case — and  the  cases 
are  of  daily  occurrence — in  which  it  is 
virtually  put  to  your  decision,  whether 
you  will  crucify  the  Son  of  God  afresh,  or 
acknowledge  Him  as  your  Savior,  you 
would  then  go  up,  as  it  were,  to  the 
Judgment  seat  under  the  impression  of 
this  vision,  with  the  message  which  it 
conveyed  ringing  in  your  ears,  indeed  we 
can  be  sure,  that,  when  the  last  trumpet 
sounds,  and  the  last  assize  is  held,  you 
will  look  with  confidence  on  the  descend- 
ing Judge,  and  know  in  Him  a  brother 
and  Redeemer. 


SERMON    XIV. 


THE  EXAMINATION  OF  CAIN. 


*  And  the  Lord  said  unto  Cain.  Where  is  Abel  thy  brother  1  Anil  lie  said,  I  know  not :  am  I  ray  brother's  keeper? 
And  he  said,  What  hast  thou  done  ?  the  voice  of  th  v  brother's  blood  crieth  unto  me  from  the  ground." — Genesis 
iv.  9,  10. 


The  brief  notices  which  the  inspired 
historian  has  given  of  the  condition  of 
our  first  parents  immediately  after  the 
fall,  do  not  suffice  to  answer  the  ques- 
tions which  naturally  suggest  themselves 
to  the  mind.  We  have  no  power  of 
knowing  what  alteration  they  felt  in 
themselves  as  consequent  on  the  trans- 


jrression  of  which  they  had  been  guilty. 
We  read,  indeed,  that,  before  the  fall, 
they  had  no  feeling  of  shame  at  the  not 
being  clothed :  but  that  no  sooner  had 
they  eaten  of  the  forbidden  fruit  than 
their  eyes  were  opened,  and  they  knew 
themselves  naked.  But  this  is  our  only 
information  as  to  any  consciousness  of 


THE  EXAMINATION   OF  CAIN. 


121 


the  change  which  they  had  undergone. 
Whether  they  felt  the  sentence  of  death 
in  their  members,  whether  they  could 
judge,  from  some  difference  in  the  throb- 
bings  of  life,  that  they  were  no  longer 
what  they  hud  been,  children  of  immor- 
tality— on  this  it  were  idle  to  advance 
even  conjecture  ;  they  knew  that  they 
must  die  ;  they  knew  in  a  measure  what 
death  was,  for  they  saw  the  stragglings 
of  animals  which  they  offered  in  sacri- 
fice :  but  it  is  a  strange,  inexplicable 
thing,  the  transition  from  incorruptible 
to  corruptible,  from  immortal  to  mortal  ; 
and  we  may  not  pretend  to  say  whether 
the  pulse  and  the  feeling  gave  any  notice 
of  the  change. 

But  at  least,  we  may  believe  that 
Adam  and  Eve  awaited  with  much  anx- 
iety the  first  instance  of  death.  It  was 
long  in  coming ;  year  rolled  away  after 
year,  and  still  they  saw  no  infliction  of 
the  curse,  except  on  the  beast  of  the  field 
and  the  fowl  of  the  air.  Perhaps  the 
delay  took  away  something  of  the  horror 
with  which  they  had  at  first  contemplat- 
ed the  threatened  visitation.  Then- 
family  multiplied,  sons  and  daughters 
were  born  unto  them,  and  they  may  al- 
most have  forgotten,  as  healthfulness 
perhaps  beamed  from  every  face,  that  a 
day  must  come  when  the  ground,  which 
yielded  them  sustenance,  must  yield  them 
a  grave.  At  least,  our  first  parents  may 
have  said,  It  will  not  be  our  lot  to  mark 
the  irruption  of  the  destroyer.  We,  in 
all  probability,  shall  be  the  first  victims  : 
for  it  may  not  have  entered  into  their 
thoughts,  that  so  vast  was  the  disorgani- 
zation consequent  on  sin,  that  children 
might  die  before  their  parents,  and  the 
old  carry  the  young  out  to  burial. 

Alas  for  Adam  and  Eve  !  if  they  eith- 
er thought  less  of  the  evil  they  had 
wrought,  because  its  consequences  came 
not  visibly  for  year  after  year ;  or  if  they 
expected,  that,  being  themselves  the  first 
to  fall  before  the  storm,  they  should 
know  comparatively  but  little  of  its  fear- 
fulness.  Alas  for  them !  seeing  that 
they  were  to  live  to  behold  the  entrance 
of  death,  an  entrance  which  should  de- 
monstrate, in  a  manner  inconceivably 
terrible,  how  vast  was  the  corruption 
which  had  been  wrought  into  their 
nature. 

There  is  nothing  more  memorable 
than  this — that  the  first  instance  of  death 
was  the  most  convincing  of  all  possible 


proofs,  that  human  nature  had  become 
radically  depraved,  that  it  was  capable 
of  any  wickedness,  in  consequence  of 
the  original  transgression.  It  might 
have  been  supposed,  that,  though  the 
seeds  of  evil  had  been  sown  in  our  na- 
ture through  the  disobedience  of  our 
first  parents,  time  would  have  been  re- 
quired for  their  development,  so  that  it 
would  not  be  until  the  human  family  had 
multiplied  and  spread,  that  any  thing  of 
enormous  wickedness  would  be  wrought 
upon  the  earth.  But  the  precise  reverse 
was  the  matter  of  fact.  The  very  first 
that  was  born  of  woman,  committed  the 
very  foulest  crime  that  can  be  perpetra- 
ted by  man.  There  was  no  time  needed 
for  the  growth  of  evil :  the  nature,  once 
corrupted,  was  capable  of  the  worst  that 
can  be  even  imagined.  You  misdit 
think,  when  you  look  on  the  savage, 
stained  with  some  deed  of  signal  atrocity, 
that  he  is  but  a  proof  of  the  gradual 
degeneracy  of  our  nature — supposing 
him  to  have  become  thus  frightfully  fe- 
rocious through  the  growth  of  barbarism 
in  successive  generations.  You  com- 
pare him  with  the  inhabitants  of  more 
civilized  countries,  and  you  conclude 
that  it  is  just  because  he  has  been  longer 
left  to  harden  and  deteriorate,  without 
coming  into  contact  with  any  counter  in- 
fluence, that  he  commits  without  re- 
morse the  most  desperate  crimes.  And 
we  do  not  of  course  deny,  that  civiliza- 
tion has  a  great  deal  to  do  with  the 
form  and  measure  of  prevalent  iniquity: 
the  laws  of  a  well-regulated  society  will 
proscribe,  and  make  rare,  many  of  those 
manifestations  of  evil  which  stalk  unre- 
strained in  a  barbarous  state.  But  what 
we  wish  you  to  be  certified  of,  is,  that, 
though  with  different  degrees  of  civiliza- 
tion there  may  be  different  degrees  in 
the  exhibition  of  human  corruption, 
there  are  not  different  degrees  in  that 
corruption  itself.  Man  is  the  same,  radi- 
cally the  same,  in  one  state  and  in  an- 
other :  he  is  capable  of  the  same,  the 
very  same,  villanies,  though  he  may  not 
in  both  instances  be  actually  guilty  of 
them  :  the  polish  of  civilization  may  con- 
ceal, and  the  rudeness  of  barbarism  may 
bring  out,  evil  tendencies,  but  those  ten- 
dencies equally  exist,  however  unequally 
they  may  be  displayed. 

And  we  can  never  want  other  proof 
of  this  truth  than  that  which  was  f  >rced 
on  our  first  parents,  when,  after  long  ex- 

16 


122 


THE  EXAMINATION   OF  CAIN. 


pecting  the  entrance  of  death,  and  per- 
haps, seeing-  but  little  to  persuade  them, 
that,  in  eating  of  the  fruit,  they  had 
actually  poisoned  the  nature  which  they 
were  to  transmit,  they  beheld  Abel  ly- 
ing murdered,  and  knew  that  a  brother's 
hand  bad  dealt  the  fatal  blow.  If  Abel 
had  sickened  and  died  in  what  we  now 
call  a  natural  course,  it  would  have  been 
a  grievous  spectacle  for  Adam  and  Eve  : 
they  would  have  hung  over  their  wast- 
ing chiid  in  unutterable  anguish,  marking 
in  every  pan-  the  effect  of  their  disobe- 
dience,  and  reproaching  themselves  as 
the  cause  of  his  sufferings.  And  when 
at  last  death  had  made  good  his  conquest, 
and  seized  the  first-fruit  of  that  immea- 
surable harvest  which  he  is  yet  reaping 
from  the  earth,  they  would  have  thrown 
them  -elves  in  their  agony  on  the  corpse, 
and  then  have  recoiled  from  the  touch, 
shuddering  at  the  coldness  of  the  dead. 
Still  there  would  have  been  nothing  here 
but  what  they  had  looked  for,  nothing 
but  what  they  had  known  to  be  inevita- 
ble :  the  hist  dead  body  would  have 
been  an  appalling-,  strange,  mysterious 
thing  ;  but  nevertheless  as  they  gazed 
on  tiie  calm,  still,  features,  they  might 
have  felt  that  there  was  rest  in  that  aw- 
ful sleep.  They  would  not  necessarily 
have  risen  from  their  first  acquaintance 
with  death,  increasingly  convinced  of 
the  fearful  consequences  of  their  sin. 
Those  consequences  might  have  been 
presented  in  their  ]east  terrible  shape. 
The  dying  youth  might  have  blessed 
them  with  his  parting  breath  ;  he  might 
have  smiled  affectionately  upon  them, 
and  something  of  hope  might  have  beam- 
ed from  his  eye,  as  though  to  assure 
them,  that,  after  all,  death  was  not  so 
formidable  a  thing  :  and  they  might  have 
dug  his  grave,  and  laid  him  there  to  his 
long  repose,  half-comforted  with  the 
thought,  that,  although  they  had  brought 
a  curse  upon  their  nature,  that  curse 
was  less  tremendous  than  their  fears  had 
supposed. 

But  Abel  murdered — Abel  stretched 
upon  the  earth,  a  ghastly  mingled  thing 
— what  a  spectacle  was  this!  Who  had 
done  it'.'  had  he  been  his  own  execu- 
tioner? That  were  an  awful  thing, 
thrillingly  demonstrative  of  the  depravi- 
ty of  the  nature  which  had  been  created 
in  innocence.  But  this  was  incredible 
— so  gentle,  so  meek,  so  pious,  it  could 
not    be    that    he    who    had    so    recently 


brought  of  the  firstlings  of  his  flock, 
and  to  whom  and  to  whose  offerino-  the 
Lord  had  had  respect,  should  have  done 
a  deed  from  which  nature  recoils,  and 
courted  that  which  was  the  object  of  a 
dark  and  undefined  dread.  But  if  Abel 
had  not  slain  himself,  by  whom  could  the 
wounds  have  been  inflicted  t  Alas, 
when  there  were  yet  so  few  in  the  world, 
there    was   little  difficulty   in   fixing  on 

1  *         ■  * 

the  criminal.  Adam  and  Eve  must  have 
remembered  Row,  when  the  offering  of 
their  elder  son  was  rejected,  "  Cain  was 
very  wroth,  and  his  countenance  fell." 
Yet  was  it  possible  ?  human  nature  had 
been  depraved,  but  had  it  been  depraved 
enough  for  this  ?  what,  the  brother  kill 
the  brother  ?  was  man  so  incurably 
wicked,  that,  in  place  of  waiting  for  the 
sentence  upon  sin,  he  could  sin  beyond 
thought  in  order  to  hasten  its  corning-'? 
It  seemed  too  bad  for  belief:  Cain  no 
doubt  denied  the  atrocity;  he  denied 
it  afterwards  to  God,  and  is  not  like- 
ly to  have  confessed  it  to  his  parents. 
Then  these  parents  may  still  have 
thought  that  they  had  not  utterly  cor- 
rupted their  nature  :  they  could  more 
easily  leave  Abel's  death  unexplained, 
than  admit  the  explanation  which  made 
a  murderer  of  Cain.  But  they  must 
have  been  ready  to  sink  into  the  earth 
at  the  view  of  what  they  had  done  in 
disobeying  God — ay,  and  the  men  of 
every  age  were  taught,  that  what  was 
immediately  caused  by  the  fall,  was  the 
total,  radical,  corruption  of  human  na- 
ture— when  the  Eternal  One  Himself 
convicted  the  criminal,  exclaiming  in  the 
words  of  our  text,  "  The  voice  of  thy 
brother's  blood  crieth  unto  me  from  the 
ground." 

But  we  have  spoken  hitherto  only  of 
the  crime  which  had  been  perpetrated 
by  Cain,  being  very  anxious  that  you 
should  judge  from  that  crime  the  extent 
of  the  moral  ruin  which  had  been 
wrought  through  apostasy.  There  is 
certainly  a  surprisin  ■  difference,  on 
every  human  calculation,  between  the 
sin  of  our  first  parents,  and  the  sin  of 
their  first  child — the  one,  the  eating  a 
morsel  of  fruit,  the  other,  the  murder  of 
a  brother.  Bui  we  may  justly  make  use 
of  the  difference  in  estimating  the  effects 
of  the  original  disobedience.  Men  will 
ask,  in  what  degree  was  our  nature  de- 
praved by  the  fall  ?  are  we  to  believe 
that    it    became   very   sinful,  capable  of 


THE  EXAMINATION  OF  CAIN. 


123 


very  great  wickedness  1  We  never 
think  that  any  other  answer  is  needed  to 
such  questions  than  is  furnished  by  the 
history  now  under  review.  Adam  and 
Eve  transgressed  through  eating  the 
forbidden  fruit :  they  thus,  in  some 
measure  or  another,  corrupted  the  na- 
ture which  they  had  received  innocent 
from  God.  But  the  very  first  being  to 
whom  this  corrupted  nature  was  com- 
municated,  raised  his  hand  against  his 
brother,  and  slew  him  out  of  mere  envy, 
though  he  had  done  him  no  wrong — 
judge  ye  then  whether  we  are  right  in 
maintaining  that  human  nature  was 
radically  and  totally  depraved  by  the 
fall,  that  it  was  instantly  capable  of 
the  worst,  not  having  to  become  gi- 
gantic in  evil,  but  being  so  by  being  evil 
at  all  1 

•But  we  wish  now  to  speak#upon  the 
trial,  rather  than  upon  the  crime  :  the 
world  was  yet  young,  and  there  were 
no  judicatories  to  take  cognizance  of 
offences  —  therefore  did  God,  who, 
though  his  creatures  had  rebelled  against 
Him,  still  held  in  his  hands  the  govern- 
ment of  the  world,  come  forth  from  his 
solitude,  and  make  "  inquisition  for 
blood."  It  is  probable  that  there  were 
stated  religious  assemblings  of  the  fa- 
mily  of  Adam,  and  that  it  was  at  one  of 
these — the  one  which  followed  the  mur- 
der— that  the  inquiry  took  place  which 
is  registered  in  our  text.  God  had  not 
deserted  our  guilty  race  in  judgment  on 
their  apostasy  ;  but,  having  spared  them 
for  the  sake  of  the  promised  interference 
of  a  Mediator,  He  still  condescended  to 
hold  intercourse  with  them  in  something 
of  the  same  manner  as  whilst  they  yet 
inhabited  Paradise.  Thus,  there  must 
have  been  some  direct  manifestation  of 
his  presence,  when  on  occasion  of  the 
presentation  of  offerings,  He  "had  re- 
spect unto  Abel  and  his  offering,  but 
unto  Cain  and  his  offering  he  had  not 
respect."  This  probably  took  place  at 
one  of  the  stated  gatherings  for  purpo- 
ses of  religion  :  and  it  may  have  been 
at  the  next  that  God  took  occasion,  from 
the  absence  of  Abel,  to  address  Cain 
with  the  interrogation  with  which  our 
text  opens. 

But  why — omniscient  as  God  was, 
and,  by  his  own  after-statement,  tho- 
roughly cognizant  of  the  guilt  of  Cain — 
why  did  He  address  the  murderer  with 
the    que j-.  ion,    "  Where    is     Abel     thy 


brother  1 "  in  place  of  taxing  him  at  once 
with  the  atrocious  commission  1  As- 
suredly there  could  have  been  no  need 
to  God  of  additional  information  :  it  was 
in  no  sense  the  same  as  at  a  human  tri- 
bunal, where  questions  are  put  that  facts 
may  be  elicited.  And  in  following  this 
course,  God  acted  as  He  had  done  on 
the  only  former  occasion  when  He  had 
sat,  as  it  were,  in  judgment  on  human 
offenders.  When  our  first  parents  had 
transgressed,  God  conducted  his  whole 
inquiry  by  questions,  though  we  need 
not  say  that  He  must  have  been  tho- 
roughly acquainted  with  all  that  had 
passed.  Adam  hid  himself  from  the 
Loi'd,  conscious  of  guilt,,  and  therefore 
dreading  his  presence.  "  And  the  Lord 
God  called  unto  Adam,  and  said  unto 
him,  Where  art  thou  1 "  God  saw  Adam 
in  his  concealment ;  yet  He  seemed  to 
assume  ignorance,  and  required  the  cul- 
prit tc  make  himself  known.  And  on 
Adam's  then  saying  that  He  was  afraid 
because  of  his  nakedness,  fresh  ques- 
tions are  put:  "  Who  told  thee  that  thou 
wast  naked  1  hast  thou  eaten  of  the  tree 
whereof  I  commanded  thee  that  thou 
shouldest  not  eat  1 "  The  same  system 
is  pursued  with  the  woman  on  whom 
Adam  endeavors  to  shift  all  the  blame. 
"  The  Lord  God  said  unto  the  woman, 
What  is  this  that  thou  hast  done  1  "  But 
it  is  very  observable  that  here  the  ques- 
tions end  :  the  woman  throws  the  blame 
on  the  serpent,  and  God  proceeds  to 
pass  sentence  on  the  serpent,  without 
prefacing  it  with  any  inquiry.  "  The 
Lord  God  said  unto  the  serpent,  Be- 
cause thou  hast  done  this,  thou  art  cursed 
above  all  cattle." 

But  the  method  of  question  is  again 
employed,  so  soon  as  there  is  again  a 
human  offender  to  be  tried.  "  The  Lord 
said  unto  Cain,  Where  is  Abel  thy 
brother  1 "  It  can  hardly  be  doubted  that, 
in  all  these  instances,  the  gracious  de- 
sign of  God  was  to  afford  the  criminals 
opportunity  of  confessing  their  crimes. 
We  are  greatly  struck  by  the  difference 
in  the  course  adopted  with  a  fallen  man, 
and  with  a  fallen  angel.  It  is  a  differ- 
ence analogous  to  the  great  but  myste- 
rious distinction,  that  He  taketh  not 
hold  on  angels,  but  that  of  the  seed  of 
Abraham  He  doth  take  hold.  A  fallen 
man  was  within  the  possibility  of  par- 
don, seeing  that,  long  before  he  trans- 
gressed, a  Surety  had  covenanted  to  be- 


124 


THE  EXAMINATION   OF  CAIN. 


come  the  propitiation  for  his  sin.  And 
therefore  might  a  fallen  man  be  invited 
and  encouraged  to  confess  his  sin,  seeing 
that  the  gracious  words  were  actually  in 
force,  though  they  had  not  yet  been  de- 
livered, "Whoso  confesseth  and  for- 
saketh  his  sins  shall  find  mercy."  But 
there  was  no  such  possibility  in  the  case 
of  a  fallen  angel  like  Satan,  who  actuat- 
ed the  serpent ;  he  had  been  cast  out 
for  ever  from  heaven  ;  no  mediator  was 
to  arise  to  accomplish  his  reconciliation 
to  God  ;  and  therefore  was  he  not  invit- 
ed to  acknowledge  his  guilt,  seeing  that 
no  acknowledgement  could  have  effect 
on  his  doom. 

It  is  in  this  way  that  we  would  ex- 
plain the  system  of  questioning  which  is 
so  observable  in  God's  dealings  with  the 
first  human  culprits.  You  must  be 
aware  how,  throughout  Scripture,  there 
is  attached  the  greatest  importance  to 
confession  of  sin,  so  that  its  being  for- 
given is  spoken  of  as  though  it  depend- 
ed upon  nothing  but  its  being  acknow- 
ledged. "  If  we  confess  our  sins,"  saith 
the  evangelist,  "  God  is  faithful  and  just 
to  forgive  us  our  sins,  and  to  cleanse  us 
from  all  unrighteousness."  "  Only," 
saith  the  prophet,  "  acknowledge  thine 
iniquity,  that  thou  hast  transgressed 
against  the  Lord  thy  God."  "li\"  saith 
the  apostle,  "  thou  shalt  confess  with  thy 
mouth  the  Lord  Jesus  " — for  "  with  the 
mouth  confession  is  made  unto  salva- 
tion." We  are  not  now  to  inquire  in- 
to the  reasons  why  the  confesssion  of 
sin  should  thus  be  instrumental  to  its 
forgiveness.  It  is  sufficient  to  observe 
that  the  whole  procuring  cause  of  the 
forgiveness  of  sin  is  in  the  blood  of  a 
Redeemer  :  but  that  the  application  of 
this  blood,  in  any  particular  instance,  is 
justly  made  conditional  on  the  acquire- 
ment and  display  of  certain  dispositions, 
which  dispositions  will  evidence  them- 
selves in  genuine  contrition,  and  hearty 
confession.  So  that  it  is  not  that,  by 
confessing  our  sins,  we  in  any  sense  or 
measure  deserve  their  forgiveness  ;  but 
only  that  confession,  when  it  is  the  lan- 
guage of  the  heart,  argues  the  state  of 
mind  which  God  requires  in  those  whom 
He  pardons — a  state  of  penitential  sor- 
row for  the  past,  and  of  humble  resolu- 
tion for  the  future.  And  therefore,  when 
God  attempts  to  draw  a  criminal  to  con- 
fession, He  is  to  be  understood  as  telling 
him  that  his  sin  is    not  unpardonable ; 


but  that  there  is  yet  a  way,  through  re- 
pentance, to  forgiveness. 

It  is  this,  even  this,  which   we  consid- 
er indicated  by  the  questions  which   He 
proposed   to  Cain.      We  say,  the  ques- 
tions ;   for  you     observe  that   when  the 
murderer,  in   his  hardihood,  had  return- 
ed an   insolent  negative  to  the  inquiry, 
"  Where   is   Abel   thy   brother  1  "     God 
plied  him  with  a  second  question,  "  What 
hast  thou   done  ]  "      It  may  be  that   this 
question  again   referred  to  the  murder  : 
and   then   it  is  but   a  repetition  of  the 
first,  a  fresh  attempt  to  extort  from  Cain 
confession  of  his  crime.     But  we  rather 
understand  it  in  another  sense,  as  refer- 
ring to  Cain's  refusal  to  confess.  "  What 
hast  thou  done  1  " — it   is  as  much  as  to 
say,  I  have   given    thee   opportunity  to 
acknowledge  the   crime  of  whose  com- 
mission  I  need  no  evidence  but  the  blood 
crying  from  the   ground  :  thou  hast  re- 
fused the  opportunity  :   alas,  then,   what 
hast  thou    done  1  thou   hast   now  made 
thy  punishment   inevitable,  even   as   thy 
guilt    has    all    along    been    unquestion- 
able. 

And  did  the  crime,  then,  of  Cain  come 
within  the  range  of  forgiveness  ]  Sup- 
posing it  to  have  been  confessed,  might 
it  also  have  been  pardoned  1  We  pre- 
sume not  to  say  what  God's  course  with 
Cain  would  have  been,  had  the  murder- 
er displayed  contrition  in  place  of  hard- 
ness and  insolence.  The  crime  had  been 
fearful;  and  we  must  believe  that,  in 
any  case,  the  moral  Governor  of  the 
universe  would  have  so  treated  the 
criminal  as  to  mark  his  sense  of  the 
atrociousness  of  that  which  he  had  done. 
But  there  is  no  room  for  doubt,  that 
there  was  •forgiveness  even  for  Cain  ; 
even  then  there  was  blood  which  spake 
better  things  than  that  of  Abel,  the  blood 
of  Him  who,  on  the  cross,  besought  par- 
don for  his  murderers,  and  who,  in  thus 
showing  that  his  death  made  expiation 
even  for  its  authors,  showed  also  that 
there  was  no  human  sin  which  its  virtue 
would  not  reach.  And  we  do  reckon  it 
among  the  most  beautiful  of  the  early 
notices  of  the  prevalence  of  that  atone- 
ment which  was  to  be  made  in  the  ful- 
ness of  time,  that  God  should  have  thus 
lingered  with  such  a  criminal  as  Cain, 
delaying  to  pass  sentence  in  hopes  of 
obtaining  confession.  Oh,  it  is  true 
that  there  may  have  been  given  but 
feeble   intimations   to  the  patriarchs  of 


THE   EXAMINATION   OP  CAIN. 


125 


that  great  scheme  of  rescue,  which,  as 
developed  to  ourselves  in  the  Gospel  of 
Christ,  assures  us  that,  though  our  sins 
be  as  scarlet,  they  may  be  white  as  snow, 
though  they  be  red  like  crimson,  they 
may  be  as  wool  :  yet,  whether  or  not 
these  fathers  of  our  race  had  any  clear 
idea  as  to  the  mode  in  which  provision 
would  be  made  for  the  forgiveness  of 
sin,  we  may  be  sure  that  they  were  freed 
from  the  most  oppressive  of  all  burdens, 
the  burden  of  a  belief,  or  even  a  fear, 
that  their  offences  were  too  great  to  be 
pardoned.  The  history  of  (Jain  might 
have  sufficed  to  remove  this.  Was  not  ! 
God  omniscient  1  could  any  solitude 
withdraw  from  his  penetrating  gaze  1 
could  any  covering  hide  guilt  from  his 
all-seeing  eye]  Wherefore,  then,  did 
He  question  Cain,  as  though  wanting 
information,  and  unable  to  proceed  in 
his  office  of  J  udge,  without  fuller  and 
more  definite  evidence  1  Nay,  the  pa- 
triarchs must  have  known,  as  well  as 
ourselves,  that  these  questions  were  de- 
signed to  induce  confession,  not  to  ex- 
tort proof.  And  why  did  God  labor  to 
induce  confession,  except  that  He  sought 
to  bring  Cain  to  repentance  ?  and  why 
to  repentance,  except  that  He  might  then 
bestow  on  him  pardon  I 

But  if  Cain  might  have  been  pardon- 
ed, had  he  been  but  penitent,  where  was 
the  contrite  sinner  who  need  despair  of 
the  forgiveness  of  his  sins  1  Ay,  it  is 
thus  that  the  questions  under  review 
might  have  served  as  a  revelation,  during 
the  infancy  of  the  world,  of  the  readi- 
ness of  the  Almighty  to  blot  out  our  ini- 
quities as  a  cloud,  and  as  a  thick  cloud 
our  sins.  There  were  then  no  gracious 
declarations  as  to  the  cleansing  power 
of  the  blood  of  a  Redeemer  ;  and  there 
had  not  passed  over  this  fallen  creation, 
words  which  have  only  to  be  breath- 
ed, and  its  waste  places  ought  to  break 
forth  into  singing,  "  The  Son  of  Man  is 
come  to  seek  and  to  save  that  which 
was  lost."  But  the  trembling  penitent 
was  not  necessarily  harassed  with  appre- 
hensions of  vengeance.  There  were 
other  visions  floating  before  him  than 
those  of  an  implacable  Deity  and  an  in- 
evitable wrath  ;  he  could  comfort  him- 
self with  the  thought  that  there  was  mer- 
cy with  the  Most  High,  even  for  the 
chief  of  sinners;  and  if  asked  on  what 
he  rested  such  a  confidence,  he  might 
have    pointed    to    God's    dealings    with 


Cain,  and  have  declared  that  he  found 
grounds  of  assurance  in  the  questions, 
"  Where  is  thy  brother?  "  and,  "  What 
hast  thou  done  I  " 

But  let  us  now  observe  the  manner  in 
which  Cain  acted,  whilst  God  was  thus 
graciously  endeavoring  to  lead  him  to 
repentance.  If  we  had  not  abundant 
evidence,  in  our  own  day — yea,  in  our 
own  cases — of  the  hardening  power  of 
sin,  we  might  wonder  at  the  effrontery 
which  the  murderer  displayed.  Did  he, 
could  he,  think  that  denial  would  avail 
anything  with  God,  so  that,  if  he  did  not 
confess,  he  might  keep  his  crime  unde- 
tected ?  I  know  not  what  measure  of 
blindness  he  may  have  wrought  for  him- 
self through  allowing  his  malice  to  urge 
him  on  to  murder.  But  when  we  find 
it  affirmed,  as  it  is  by  God  Himself  in 
the  book  of  Psalms,  of  a  wicked  man, 
"  Thou  thoughtest  that  I  was  altogether 
such  an  one  as  thyself,"  we  may  believe 
that  there  are  scarce  any  limits  to  the 
moral  hardness  and  darkness  which  are 
naturally  the  produce  of  continuance  in 
sin.  There  may  come  upon  a  man  who, 
by  persisting  in  iniquity,  sears  and  stupi- 
fies  conscience,  such  adulness  of  appre- 
hension, such  a  confusion  of  right  and 
wrong,  such  a  loss  of  all  distinction  be- 
tween the  finite  and  the  infinite,  that  he 
shall  be  able  to  persuade  himself  of  the 
truth  of  a  lie,  and  to  ascribe  even  to  God 
his  own  faults  and  imperfections. 

It  may,  therefore,  be,  that  it  was  not 
in  mere  insolence  that  Cain  affirmed  to 
God  that  he  knew  nothing  of  Abel ;  he 
may  have  been  so  blinded  by  his  sin  as 
to  lose  all  discernment  of  the  necessary 
attributes  of  God,  so  that  he  actually 
imagined  that  not  to  confess  would  be 
almost  to  conceal.  Under  this  point  of 
view,  his  instance  ought  to  serve  as  a 
warning  to  its  of  the  deadening  power  of 
wrong-doing,  informing  us  that  there  is 
no  such  ready  way  of  benumbing  the 
understanding,  or  paralyzing  the  reason, 
as  the  indulging  passion,  and  withstand- 
ing conscience.  We  know  not  where 
we  shall  stop,  if  we  once  hearken  to  our 
evil  affections,  and  allow  them  to  lead 
us  captive,  in  spite  of  that  "  still  small 
voice  "  which  pleads  at  some  time  or 
another,  in  every  man's  breast,  for  God 
and  for  truth.  We  may  not  stop  until 
those  powers  of  mind,  which  are  in  vig- 
orous play  on  all  other  science,  are  too 
enfeebled  for  any  due  apprehension  of  an 


126 


THE  EXAMINATION  OF  CAIN. 


invisible  ruler,  and  the  pale  lamp  which 
Deity  hath  lit  up  within  us,  and  which 
may  still  shed  some  lustre  on  natural 
things,  burns  too  dimly  and  fitfully  to 
allow  of  our  looking,  otherwise  than 
through  vapor  and  mist,  on  what  is 
spiritual  and  eternal.  With  Cain  we 
may  sin,  till,  besotted  into  a  practical 
ignorance  which  could  hardly  be  expect- 
ed in  the  savage  of  the  desert,  we  dream 
of  hiding  from  God  what  we  can  hide 
from  man,  and  are  ready,  were  the  Al- 
mighty to  question  us  on  some  matter  of 
fact,  to  assert  want  of  knowledge,  in  the 
actual  hope  of  concealing  from  the  Om- 
niscient what  we  refuse  to  confess. 

But  Cain  did  more  than  assert  ignorance 
of  what  had  happened  to  Abel  :  he  taxed 
God  with  the  unreasonableness  of  propos- 
ing the  question,  as  though  it  were  a 
strange  thing  to  suppose  that  he  might 
concern  himself  with  his  brother.  "  Am 
I  my  brother's  keeper  1 "  There  can  be  no 
need  of  our  showing  you,  that  this  ques- 
tion marked  the  extraordinary  impiety  of 
Cain  :  every  one  shrmks  from  it :  forbad 
only  some  accident  befallen  Abel,  it  was 
to  have  been  expected  that  his  brother 
would  manifest  the  greatest  eagerness  to 
discover  his  fate,  and  the  greatest  sorrow 
at  finding  him  dead.  Had  his  first  as- 
sertion been  true,  that  he  knew  nothing 
of  his  brother,  what  was  to  be  said  of 
the  utter  want  of  natural  affection  ex- 
hibited in  the  question  which  he  went 
on  to  propose  'I  There  were  then  no 
brothers  in  the  world  but  Cain  and 
Abel;  and  he  who  could  insolently  ask, 
"  Am  I  my  brother's  keeper  1  "  when 
that  brother  was  missimr,  misfit  have 
been  convicted,  by  those  very  words,  of 
a  fierceness  which  was  equal  to  murder, 
and  an  audacity  which  would  deny  it 
even  to  God. 

But  we  wish  to  dwell  for  a  moment  on 
this  question  of  Cain  as  virtually  con- 
taining the  excuse  which  numbers  in 
our  own  day  would  give,  were  God  to 
come  visibly  down,  and  make  inquisition 
for  blood.  You  may  start  at  the  very  men- 
tion of  such  an  inquisition,  and  demand 
what  we  mean  by  supposing  a  possibili- 
ty of  your  committing  the  same  crime 
as  Cain.  Nay,  it  is  not  needful  that 
your  hands  be  red  with  slaughter,  in 
order  to  your  pleading  that  you  are  not 
your  brother's  keeper.  We  assert  that 
God  might  come  down,  and  make  in- 
quisition for  blood,  though  there  were 


none  upon  whom  actual  murder  could  be 
charged.  Is  there  no  such  thing  in  our 
crowded  community  as  neglect  of  the 
poor  ?  might  not  many  a  man  be  fixed  on, 
who  is  in  the  enjoyment  of  every  luxu- 
ry of  life,  and  who  never  gives  even  a 
passing  thought  to  hundreds  who  are 
almost  perishing  within  a  stone's  throw 
of  his  mansion,  never  personally  inquir- 
ing into  their  wants,  and  never  even 
employing  others  to  relieve  their  desti- 
tution ] 

And  what  is  to  be  said  of  the  mur- 
der, the  wholesale  murder,  which,  in  a 
spiritual  sense,  is  chargeable  on  Chris- 
tendom, and  on  ourselves  as  truly  as  on 
any  of  its  sections  1  We  speak  of  the 
murder  of  souls.  Is  it  no  murder,  when 
thousands  in  our  own  land  are  left  with- 
out the  bread  of  life,  consigned  to  star- 
vation, through  an  utter  destitution  of  the 
jmblic  means  of  grace  1  Is  it  no  mur- 
der, when  year  after  year  idolatry  is 
suffered  to  sweep  away  its  vast  host  of 
victims,  and  we  make  no  missionary  effort 
commensurate  with  the  enormous  evil 
which  we  are  called  on  to  oppose  1 
Nay,  it  is  more  than  the  murder  of  souls  : 
it  is  the  murder  of  the  whole  man,  body 
and  soul  :  for  what  say  you  to  the  mul- 
titude whose  bones  lie  bleaching  on  the 
deserts  of  heathenism,  a  multitude  which 
has  perished  through  the  power  of  su- 
perstition, having  immolated  themselves 
to  some  bloody  idol,  or  been  worn  down 
by  the  macerations  which  falsehood  has 
prescribed  ?  Who  will  affirm  that  we 
are  innocent  herein  ?  that  there  goes  up 
against  us  no  accusing  voice  from  the 
thousands  that  are  continually  perishing 
through  the  abominations  of  Paganism  l 
It  is  not  wholly  chargeable  on  ourselves, 
that  these  abominations  prevail,  that 
they  have  not  long  ago  been  supplanted 
by  the  genial  influences  of  Christianity. 
But  have  we  been  valiant  for  the  truth 
up  to  the  measure  of  our  ability ?  have 
we  done  our  utmost  towards  spreading 
that  Gospel,  which  alone  can  extinguish 
idolatry,  and  put  an  arrest  on  the  de- 
struction of  vast  portions  of  our  race  1 
So  far  as  we  have  been  negligent, 
so  far  as  we  have  been  remiss  in  bring- 
ing to  bear  upon  heathenism  the  en- 
gine; of  Christianity — and,  alas  !  how 
far  below  our  powers  have  been  our  en- 
deavors— we  have  been  distinctly  instru- 
mental to  the  slaughter  of  our  fellow- 
men,  the  slaughter  of  body  and  soul — 


THE  EXAMINATION  OF  CAIN. 


127 


what;  we  might  have  prevented,  we  may 
be  said  to  have  committed. 

Then  it  would  not  be  a  process  in 
which  we  had  personally  no  concern, 
were  the  Almighty  to  descend  that  He 
might  make  inquisition  for  blood.  And 
if  each  would  honestly  search  into  his 
own  thoughts  and  feelings,  he  might 
find  himself  ready  to  meet  every  in- 
quiry into  the  fate  of  his  brother,  with 
something  of  the  question  with  which 
Cain  answered  God.  If  those  who  are 
neglectful  of  their  fellow-men,  caring 
little  for  the  temporal  distress  by  which 
numbers  are  consumed,  and  still  less  for 
the  spiritual  famine  by  which  whole  na- 
tions are  wasted,  were  taxed  with  their 
nearliorence — taxed  in  such  manner  as 
should  imply  that  they,  in  their  measure, 
were  answerable  for  a  slaughter  which 
is  turnino:  lar^re  districts  of  the  earth 
into  valleys  like  that  to  which  the  Pro- 
phet was  carried,  where  lay,  in  mighty 
piles,  the  bones  of  many  generations — 
oh,  what  would  they  commonly  do  but 
shift  oft'  the  blame,  urging  that  they  had 
enough  to  do  in  consulting  for  them- 
selves and  their  immediate  dependents, 
and  that  there  were  no  such  links  of  as- 
sociation between  them  and  the  stran- 
ger as  made  it  imperative  that  they 
should  engage  in  large  schemes  of  be- 
nevolence 1  Am  I  the  keeper  of  the 
Hindu,  the  Indian,  the  Hottentot  1  Am 
I  the  keeper  of  the  savage,  who,  on 
some  distant  continent  or  island,  offers 
his  first-born  or  himself  to  a  blood- 
thirsty deity,  the  creation  of  his  fears, 
the  offspring  of  his  ignorance  1  Is  the 
savage  thy  brother  ]  Is  it,  or  is  it  not 
true,  that  God  "hath  made  of  one  blood 
all  nations  of  men  for  to  dwell  on  all 
the  face  of  the  earth1?"  If  all  have 
sprung  from  the  same  parents,  then  the 
wild  wanderer,  the  painted  barbarian,  is 
thy  brother,  though  civilization  may 
have  separated  you  by  so  wide  an  inter- 
val, that  you  scarcely  seem  to  belong  to 
the  same  race.  And,  being  thy  brother, 
it  is  but  to  imitate  Cain,  to  plead  that  it 
is  not  thine  office  to  attend  to  his  wel- 
fare. It  is  thine  office.  There  is  no 
man  who  is  not  bound  to  do  his  utmost 
for  the  good  of  every  other  man.  He 
is  bound,  because  every  man  is  the  bro- 
ther of  every  man.  The  missionary 
enterprize  is  nothing  but  the  truth  of 
universal  brotherhood,  reduced  into 
practice.     It  is  no  mere  burst  of  spiritu- 


al chivalry,  the  fine  and  splendid  scheme 
of  lofty  enthusiasts,  who  would  cany 
into  religion  the  passions  which  find 
vent  in  the  heroic  deeds  of  war.  It  is 
simply  the  doctrine  of  a  common  origin, 
suffered  to  produce  its  natural  fruits.  It 
is  the  acknowledgment  of  our  having  had 
but  one  father,  registered  in  action  as 
well  as  in  word.  And  therefore  let  all 
learn,  that,  if  they  excuse  themselves 
from  the  duty  of  ministering  to  the  suf- 
fering ;  if  they  confine  their  solicitude 
and  their  liberality  to  the  few  with  whom 
they  are  most  closely  connected,  treat- 
ing all  the  rest  of  the  human  family  as 
strangers  for  whom  thev  are  not  bound 
to  care — ah,  they  may  indeed  imagine 
that  they  make  out  a  very  plausible 
case  ;  for  what  have  they  to  do  with 
the  savage  and  the  foreigner  1  is  there 
not  enough  nearer  home  to  exhaust  all 
their  efforts  'i — but  let  them  know  as- 
suredly, that,  Avhen  the  Lord  cometh, 
as  come  He  shall,  to  make  inquisition 
for  blood,  they  shall  be  dealt  with  as 
though  like  Cain,  yet  reeking  from  the 
slaughter  of  Abel,  they  had  parried  the 
inquiries  of  an  all-seeing  God  with  the 
insolent  question,  "  Am  I  my  brother's 
keeper  1  " 

But  we  have  now  to  consider  to  what 
God  appealed  in  the  absence  of  con- 
fession from  the  murderer  himself:  He 
had  striven  to  induce  Cain  to  acknowl- 
edge his  guilt  ;  but,  failing  in  this,  He 
must  seek  elsewhere  for  evidence  on 
which  to  convict  him.  And  where  does 
He  find  this  evidence  1  He  misrh't  un- 
doubtedly  have  referred  to  his  own  om- 
niscience, to  the  observation  of  an  eye 
which  never  slumbers  nor  sleeps.  Think- 
est  thou,  He  might  have  said  to  the  cul- 
prit, that  I  require  any  testimony  to  assure 
me  of  thy  guilt  i  Did  I  not  see  thee 
when  thine  hand  was  raised  against  thy 
brother?  was  I  not  by  thy  side,  though 
thou  didst  impiously  suppose  thyself 
alone  with  thy  victim,  and  thou  dost 
now,  as  impiously,  think  that  denial  is 
the  same  thing  as  concealment  %  I  want 
no  evidence  :  I  condemn  thee  for  what 
I  beheld  :  away,  and  be  a  wanderer  and 
an  outcast,  a  terror  to  thyself,  and  to  all 
that  shall  meet  thee. 

But  the  observable  thin"-  is,  that  God 
did  not  thus  appeal  to  his  omniscience  : 
He  did  not  rest  his  conviction  of  Cain 
on  the  fact  that  the  murder  had  been 
committed  under  the  very  eye  of  the 


128 


THE   EXAMINATION   OF  CAIN. 


Judge  :  but  He  made  the  inanimate  cre- 
ation rise  up,  as  it  were,  against  the  as- 
sassin, and  dumb  things  became  elo- 
quent in  demanding  his  condemnation. 
'•  The  voice  of  thy  brother's  blood  cri- 
eth  unto  in;:  from  the  ground."  And 
when  the  Almighty  proceeds  to  pass 
sentence,  the  inanimate  creation,  which 
had  testified  to  the  guilt,  is  made  to  take 
part  in  the  vengeance,  as  though  it  had 
been  wronged  and  injured  by  the  foul 
perpetration,  and  therefore  claimed 
share  in  the  punishment  of  the  criminal. 
"And  now  art  thou  cursed  from  the 
earth,  which  hath  opened  her  mouth  to 
receive  thy  brother's  blood  from  thy 
hand." 

Who  has  not  read,  who  has  not  heard, 
how  murderers,  though  they  have  suc- 
ceeded in  hiding  their  guilt  from  their 
fellow-men,  have  seemed  to  themselves 
surrounded  with  witnesses  and  avengers, 
so  that  Lhe  sound  of  their  own  foot-tread 
has  startled  them  as  if  it  had  been  the 
piercing  cry  of  an  accuser,  and  the  rust- 
ling of  every  tree,  and  the  murmur  of 
everv  brook,  has  sounded  like  the  ut- 
terance  of  one  clamorous  for  their  pun- 
ishment %  It  has  been  as  nothing,  that 
they  have  screened  themselves  from 
those  around  them,  and  are  yet  moving 
in  society  with  no  suspicion  attaching  to 
them  of  their  having  done  so  foul  a 
thing  as  murder.  They  have  felt,  as 
though,  in  the  absence  of  all  accusation 
from  beings  of  their  own  race,  they  had 
arrayed  against  themselves  the  whole 
visible  creation,  sun  and  moon  and  stars 
and  forests  and  waters  growing  vocal 
that  they  might  publish  their  crime. 
And  I  know  not  whether  there  may  be 
any  thing  more  in  this  than  the  mere 
goading  and  imaging  of  conscience : 
wb  ether  the  disquieted  assassin,  to 
whose  troubled  eye  the  form  of  his  vic- 
tim is  given  back  from  every  mirror  in 
the  universe,  and  on  whose  ear  there  falls 
no  sound  which  does  not  come  like  the  dy- 
ing man's  shriek,  or  the  thundering  call 
of  the  avenger  of  blood — whether  he 
is  simply  to  be  considered  as  haunted 
and  hunted  by  his  own  evil  thoughts  ; 
or  whether  he  be  indeed  subjected  to 
some  mysterious  and  terrible  influences 
with  which  his  crime  has  impregnated 
and  endowed  the  whole  material  sys- 
tem. I  cannot  help  feeling,  when  I 
consider  the  language  of  our  text,  as 
though   there  might  be  more  than  the 


mere  phantasms  of  a  diseased  and  dis- 
tracted mind  in  those  forms  of  fear,  and 
those  sounds  of  wrath,  which  agitate  so 
tremendously  the  yet  undiscovered  mur- 
derer. It  may  be,  that,  fashioned  as 
man  is  out  of  the  dust  of  the  earth, 
there  are  such  links  between  him  and 
the  material  creation,  that,  when  the 
citadel  of  his  life  is  rudely  invaded,  the 
murderous  blow  is  felt  throughout  the 
vast  realm  of  nature ;  so  that,  though 
there  be  no  truth  in  the  wild  legend, 
that,  if  the  assassin  enter  the  chamber 
where  the  victim  is  stretched,  the  ga- 
ping  wounds  will  bleed  afresh,  yet  may 
earth,  sea,  air,  have  sympathy  with  the 
dead,  and  form  themselves  into  furies  to 
hunt  down  his  destroyer.  It  may  have 
been  more  than  a  mere  rhetorical  ex- 
pression when  God  assigned  a  voice  to 
the  ground  that  was  saturated  with  hu- 
man blood.  And  there  may  be  utter- 
ances, which  are  more  than  the  coin- 
ings of  his  own  racked  conscience,  to  the 
murderer — utterances  which,  though 
heard  only  by  himself,  because  himself 
alone  hath  dislocated  a  chord  in  the 
great  harmonies  of  creation — may  speak 
piercingly  of  the  frightful  atrocity,  and 
invoke  the  vengeance  of  Heaven  on  the 
wretch  who  hath  dared  to  withdraw  one 
note  from  the  universal  anthem. 

But  it  is  not  exclusively,  nor  e'ven 
chiefly,  as  indicating  a  possible,  though 
inexplicable  sympathy  between  materi- 
al things  and  the  victim  of  the  murder- 
er,  that  we  reckon  the  statement  before 
us  deserving  of  being  carefully  ponder- 
ed. Setting  aside  this  sympathy,  there 
is  much  that  is  very  memorable  in  the 
appeal  of  God  to  a  voice  from  Abel's 
blood,  when  there  were  other  witnesses 
which  might  have  been  produced.  Had 
not  the  soul  of  Abel  entered  the  separ- 
ate state  1  was  not  his  spirit  with  God  1 
and  might  not  the  immortal  principle, 
violently  detached  as  it  had  been  from 
the  body,  have  cried  for  vengeance  on 
the  murderer?  We  read  in  the  Book 
of  Revelation  of  "  the  souls  of  them 
that  were  slain  for  the  word  of  God, 
and  for  the  testimony  which  they  held." 
And  of  those  souls  we  are  told,  that 
"  they  cried  with  a  loud  voice,  saying, 
How  long,  O  Lord,  holy  and  true,  dost 
thou  not  judge  and  avenge  our  blood  on 
them  that  dwell  on  the  earth  '?  "  It 
may  thei'efore  be,  that  the  souls  of  the 
dead  cry  for  judgment  upon  those  who 


THE  EXAMINATION  OF  CAIN. 


129 


have  compassed  their  death  :  why  then 
might  not  the  soul  of  Ahel,  rather  than 
his  blood,  have  been  adduced  by  God  1 
even  had  it  been  silent,  surely  its  very 
presence  in  the  invisible  world  gave  a 
mote  impressive  testimony  than  the 
stream  which  had  crimsoned  the  ground; 

In  answer  to  this,  we  are  to  consider, 
in  the  first  place,  that  it  did  not  please 
God  to  vouchsafe  any  clear  revelation  of 
the  invisible  state,  during  the  earlier 
ages  of  the  world.  We  cannot  deter- 
mine what  degree  of  acquaintance  our 
first  parents  possessed  with  a  life  after 
death;  but  when  we  remember  what 
cloud  and  darkness  hung  over  the  grave, 
even  to  those  who  lived  under  the  Jew- 
ish economy,  we  may  well  doubt  wheth- 
er Adam  and  Eve  had  any  clear  appre- 
hension of  a  state  in  which  wickedness 
would  be  eternally  punished,  and  right- 
eousness everlastingly  rewarded.  And 
it  is  to  my  mind  one  of  the  most  touch- 
ing of  the  circumstances  which  charac- 
terize their  condition,  that  God,  in  mak- 
ing inquisition  for  the  blood  of  their  son, 
should  have  given  a  voice,  as  it  were,  to 
the  dead  body,  but  none  to  the  living 
soul.  Oh,  how  soothingly  would  it  have 
fallen  on  the  ear  of  the  agonized  parents, 
had  God  spoken  of  Abel  as  existing  in 
the  invisible  world,  as  testifying;  by  his 
presence  in  some  bright  scene  which  the 
spoiler  could  not  enter,  that  the  hand  of 
violence  had  forced  him  from  the  earth. 
That  Abel  had  fallen  by  the  hand  of  his 
brother,  was  the  most  terrible  of  all  pos- 
sible proofs,  that  the  original  transgres- 
sion had  corrupted  human  nature  to  the 
core.  But  it  would  have  done  much — 
not  indeed  to  counterbalance  this  proof, 
but  to  soften  the  anguish  which  it  could 
not  fail  to  produce — had  there  been  any 
intimation  that  the  death  of  the  body 
was  not  the  death  of  the  man,  and  that 
Cain  had  but  removed  Abel  from  a  scene 
of  trouble  to  one  of  deep  repose. 

This  however  was  denied  them  :  they 
must  struggle  on  throuqh  darkness,  sus- 
tained  only  by  a  dim  conjecture  of  life 
and  immortality.  Indeed,  indeed,  I 
know  not  whether  there  be  any  thing 
more  affecting  in  the  history  of  our  first 
parents.  Oh,  bless  God,  ye  who  have 
had  to  sorrow  over  dead  children,  that 
ye  live  when  life  and  immortality  have 
been  brought  to  light  by  the  Gospel. 
Your's  has  not  been  the  deep  and  deso- 
late bitterness  of  those  on  whom  fell  no 


shillings  from  futurity.  Unto  you  havo 
come  sweet  whisperings  from  the  invi- 
sible world,  whisperings  as  of  the  one 
whom  you  loved,  telling  you  of  a  better 
land,  where  "  the  wicked  cease  from 
troubling,  and  the  weary  are  at  rest." 
But  alas  for  Adam  and  Eve  !  their's  was 
grief,  stern,  dark,  unmingled.  Taught 
by  the  foul  deed  of  Cain  how  fatally 
they  had  tainted  their  nature,  they  were 
not  also  taught,  by  any  information  as  to 
the  condition  of  Abel,  how  nevertheless 
that  nature  might  be  purified  and  exalt- 
ed. They  listen  with  all  earnestness  as 
God  prosecutes  inquiry  into  the  murder. 
Perhaps  some  consolatory  word  will  be 
dropped,  some  expression  which  shall 
partially  disclose  to  them  the  secrets  of 
the  grave.  But  they  listen  in  vain  ;  the 
time  has  not  yet  come  when  God  would 
please  to  reveal  another  world  ;  and  it 
must  have  been  almost  as  though  there 
had  been  a  repetition  of  the  stroke  which 
had  made  them  so  heavy  at  heart,  when 
in  place  of  any  notice  of  the  soul  of 
Abel,  they  only  heard  God  declare, 
"  The  voice  of  thy  brother's  blood  crieth 
unto  me  from  the  ground. " 

But  indeed  there  are  better  things  to 
be  said  on  the  fact,  that  it  was  Abel's 
blood,  and  not  his  soul,  which  found  a 
voice  to  demand  vengeance  on  the  mur- 
derer.  The  souls,  as  we  have  seen  from 
the  Book  of  Revelation,  of  numbers  who 
had  fallen  by  the  sword  of  persecution, 
cried  to  God  that  He  would  judge  those 
whose  cruelty  had  forced  them  from 
the  earth.  But  we  can  hardly  interpret 
this  cry  as  that  of  a  desire  for  revenge, 
— revenge,  that  is,  for  wrongs  individu- 
ally and  personally  received.  There 
were  something  quite  at  variance  with 
our  every  notion  of  glorified  spirits,  in 
supposing  that,  in  place  of  forgiving 
their  enemies,  they  long  and  pray  for 
their  being  destroyed.  The  best  inter- 
pretation therefore,  which  we  can  put 
on  the  passage  in  the  Book  of  Revela- 
tion, would  seem  to  be,  that,  forasmuch 
as  the  persecutors  were  the  enemies  of 
God,  and  the  great  desire  of  the  souls 
of  the  righteous  must  be  for  the  glory 
of  God,  the  cry,  "  How  long,  O  Lord, 
holy  and  true1?"  denotes  intense  long- 
ing for  the  predicted  season  when  the 
kingdoms  of  the  world  are  to  become 
the  kingdoms  of  the  Lord  and  of  his 
Christ,  when  all  opposing  powers  shall 
finally  yield   to   that  of    the  Mediator. 

17 


130 


THE  EXAMINATION  OF  CAIN. 


There  may  be  a  difficulty  in  clearing  a 
desire  for  vengeance  of  all  unholy  pas- 
sion, when  the  parties  on  whom  the  ven- 


injurious,  as  was  expressed  by  Christ 
when  being  crucified,  and  by  Stephen 
when    being    stoned.      "  Father,  forgive 


geance  is  to  descend  have  cruelly  wrong-  i  them,  for  they  know  not  what  they  do," 


exclaimed  Jesus  as  his  murderers  nailed 
Him  to  the  tree.  And  just  ere  he  fell 
asleep,  Stephen  "  kneeled  down,  and 
cried  with  a  loud  voice,  Lord,  lay  not 
this  sin  to  their  charge.'"'  We  know  not 
how  Abel,  the  first  martyr,  died.  We 
are  not  told  what  was  his  last  utterance, 
nor  what  the  look  which  he  cast  upon 
Cain,  as  he  felt  that  life  was  ebbing  fast 
away.  But  we  seem  able  to  follow  his 
spirit  into  the  separate  state  ;  and  we 
may  venture  to  gather  that  he  died  with 
forgiveness  on  his  lips,  from  the  fact 
that  he  entered  God's  presence  with  no 
complaint  against  his  murderer.  He 
could  not  cause  that  the  dumb  should 
not  speak.  He  could  not  prevent  the 
ground,  which  had  drunk  in  his  blood, 
from  crying  unto  God  to  avenge  the  foul 
outrage.  But  the  immortal  principle, 
which  might  have  poured  forth  the  nar- 
rative of  the  crime,  and  have  besought 
that  the  Lord,  to  whom  vengeance  be- 
loDgeth,  would  interpose  for  the  pun- 
ishment of  the  criminal — this  appears  to 
have  been  meekly  silent,  as  though  it 
would  have  shielded  the  murderer,  rath- 
er than  have  exposed  him,  to  his  just  re- 
tribution. 

Oh,  I  cannot    but  think    that  in  God's 


ed  those  by  whom  the  desire  is  express 
ed  :  but  we  must  believe  that  hereafter, 
when  every  lesser  feeling  shall  be  ab- 
sorbed in  those  of  love  of  (rod  and  zeal 
for  his  honor,  there  will  be  a  holy  long- 
ing for  the  overthrow  of  the  inveterate 
foes  of  the  Church,  which  shall  have  no 
alliance  whatsoever  with  what  we  now 
call  vindictiveness,  though  these  foes 
may  have  been  personally  injurious  to 
the  glorified  spirits. 

If  there  were,  nothing  to  be  avenged 
but  wrongs  done  to  themselves,  it  can- 
not be  thought  that  souks  in  the  separate 
state  would  cry  lor  the  lighting:  down  of 
God's  mighty  arm.  But  it  is  also  God 
who  has  been  wronged  ;  it  is  God's 
honor  which  has  to  be  vindicated!;  and 
souls  which  would  breathe  only  forgive- 
ness for  any  personal  injury,  may  mani- 
fest nothing  but  the  ardency  of  the  ho- 
liest affection  in  breathing  desires  for 
vengeance  on  those  who  have  done  de- 
spite  to  the  Creator  and  Redeemer. 

And  yet,  though  we  cannot  charge  any 
thing  of  human  vindictiveness  on  the 
souls  of  them  slain  for  the  word  of  God, 
which  St.  John  saw  beneath  the  altar, 
we  must  all  feel  as  though  there  were 
something  beautifully  expressive  in  the 
silence  maintained  by  the  spirit  of  Abel,  i  reference  to  the  blood  of  Abel  as  the  on- 
It  would  indeed,  as  we  have  said,  have  ;  ly  accuser,  there  was  a  designed  and 
•  served  as  a  Revelation,  full  of  consola-  ;  beautiful  lesson  as  to  the  forgiveness  of 
tory  truth  to  Adam  and  Eve,  had  God    injuries.     Cod  was  not  pleased  to  give, 


assigned  a  voice  to  the  soul,  rather  than 
to  the  blood,  of  their  slaughtered  son. 
But  who  would  not  have  felt  as  though 
it  had  been  to  make  Abel  revengeful,  to 
represent  his  spirit  as  crying  to  the  Al- 
mighty for  judgment  on  his  murderer  ? 
The  case  would  have  been  different  from 
that  of  the  souls  under  the  altar,  inas- 
much as  the  wrong  had  been  more  evi- 
dently personal,  directed  against  the  in- 
dividual, rather  than  against  a  body,  to 
i.ijure  which  was  to  offer  insult  to  Cod. 
And  we  could  not  therefore  have  so  easi- 
ly disentangled  the  expressed  desire"  for 
vengeance  from  all  those  earthly  and 
sinful  feelings  which  cannot,  as  we  know, 
have  any  subsistence  in  the  disembodied 
souls  of  the  righteous.  But  now  we 
seem  to  find,  in  the  silence  of  Abel's 
spirit,  the  same   forbearance,   the  same 


at  the  moment,  an  explicit  revelation  at 
to  the  immortality  of  Abel,  hut  so  fai 
;;  thaf  immortality  was  ascertained  from 
other  source's,  and  in  proportion  that,  ii> 
the  pro  ■■•  .;  of  time,  it  grew  into  an  ar- 
ticle of  faith,  there  was  a  most  expres- 
sive statement  as  to  the  character  which 
God  requires  in  those  whom  He  accepts, 
in  the  statement  that  it  was  not  Abel, 
but  only  his  blood,  which  cried  out  for 
vengeance.  You  know,  that,  in  the  (  ros- 
pel,  our  obtaining  forgiveness  from  God 
is  made  conditional  on  our  forgiving 
those  by  whom  we  may  be  wronged. 
"  For  if  ye  forgive  men  their  trespasses, 
your  heavenly  Father  will  also  forgive 
you.  But  if  ye  forgive  not  men  their 
trespasses,  neither  will  your  Father  for- 
give your  trespasses."  And  was  not  the 
same  truth  taught,  by  example,  if  not  by 


eagerness  for  the  good  of  the  cruel  and  I  word,    from    the    earliest    days,   seeing 


THE  EXAMINATION   OF  CAIN. 


131 


that,  when  God  would  bring  an  accusing- 
voice  against  Cain,  He  could  only  find 
it  in  the  dumb  earth  reeking  with  blood, 
though  the  soul  of  Abel  was  before  Him, 
and  might  have  been  thought  ready  to 
give  witness  with  an  exceeding  great 
and  bitter  cry  1  Abel  forgave  his  mur- 
derer— otherwise  could  he  not  have  been 
forgiven  of  God — and  we  learn  that  he 
forgave  his  murderer,  from  the  fact,  that 
it  was  only  his  blood  which  cried  aloud 
for  vengeance. 

Thus  is  there  something  very  in- 
structive in  the  absence  of  any  voice  but 
the  voice  from  the  ground.  There  is 
also  matter  for  deep  thought  in  the  fact, 
that  it  was  blood  which  sent  up  so  pene- 
trating a  cry.  It  was  like  teilimr  the 
young  world  of  the  power  which  there 
would  be  in  blood  to  gain  audience  of 
the  Most  High.  I  do  not  say,  that, 
whilst  there  were  yet  but  feeble  notices 
of  a  Redeemer,  men  might  gather,  from 
the  energy  ascribed  to  the  blood  of  Abel, 
the  virtue  which  would  be  resident  in 
that  of  Christ.  But  to  ourselves,  unto 
whom  has  been  laid  open  the  great 
scheme  of  redemption,  it  may  certainly 
come  like  one  of  the  first  notices  of 
atonement  through  blood,  which  speak- 
eth  better  things  than  that  of  Abel,  that 
so  mighty  a  voice  went  up  in  accusation 
of  Cain.  What  was  there  in  blood,  that 
it  could  give,  as  it  were,  life  to  inanimate 
things,  causing  them  to  become  vocal, 
so  that  the  very  Godhead  Himself  was 
moved  by  the  sound  ]  The  utterance, 
we  think,  did  but  predict  that  when  one, 


to  whom  Abel  had  had  respect  in  pre- 
senting in  sacrifice  the  firstlings  of  his 
flock,  should  fall,  as  Abel  fell,  beneath 
the  malice  of  the  wicked,  there  would 
go  up  from  the  shed  blood  a  voice  that 
would  be  hearkened  to  in  the* heavenly 
courts, and  prevail  to  the  obtaining  what- 
soever it  should   ask. 

Blessed  be  God  that  this  blood  docs 
not  plead  for  vengeance  alone.  It  does 
plead  for  vengeance  on  the  obdurate, 
who,  like  Cain,  resist  the  invitation  of 
God  :  but  it  pleads  also  for  the  pardon 
of  the  murderers,  so  that  it  can  expiate 
the  crime  which  it  proves  and  attests. 
And  whilst  the  blood  of  the  slain  pleads 
for  us,  the  slain  Himself  is  not  silent. 
Abel  could  only  refrain  from  speech  in 
the  invisible  world — but  Christ  is  not 
merely  not  our  accuser,  He  is  even  our 
advocate.  O  blessed  and  glorious  differ- 
ence! We  have  not,  like  Cain,  raised 
the  hand  to  slay  a  brother,  but  alas  !  we 
have  destroyed  ourselves;  and  the  cry 
for  vengeance  ascends  from  a  creation 
which  "groaneth  andtravaileth"  through 
this  our  iniquity.  But  this  cry  is  lost 
in  a  mightier,  the  cry,  "  It  is  finished," 
the  cry  of  a  surety,  the  cry  of  an  Inter- 
cessor. Let  us  only  then  take  heed  that 
we  copy  not  Cain  in  his  insolent  refusal 
to  acknowledge  his  guilt,  and  though, 
as  against  him,  there  be  a  cry  from  the 
earth,  demanding  our  punishment,  there 
will  be  a  cry  from  the  firmament  which 
was  silent,  if  it  did  not  accuse  the  mur- 
derer— "  Deliver  them  from  going1  down 
into  the  pit;  I  have  found  a  ransom." 


STANFORD  &  SWORDS  beg  leave  to  inform  their 
friends  and  the  public,  that  they  continue  to  keep  on  hand, 
as  in  former  years,  a  general  assortment  of  Religious  Works, 
suitable  for  individuals,  for  Parish  and  Family  Libraries,  and 
for  the  Clergy,  which  they  will  dispose  of  on  the  most  rea- 
sonable terms.  Having  an  agent  in  London,  they  offer  their 
services  to  the  public  for  the  importation  of  books,  pam- 
phlets, &c,  which  can  be  obtained  through  them  on  as  low 
terms  as  at  any  other  establishment  in  the  country.  The 
clergy  can  at  all  times  find  upon  their  shelves  a  great  variety 
of  old  books  at  low  prices. 

Bibles  and  trayer-Books, 

Of  every  size  and  description  of  binding.  Also,  the  Church  Lesson? 
in  convenient  forms.  Bibles  and  Common  Prayer  Books  for  the  Desk, 
in  Folio  and  Quarto,  constantly  on  hand.  Gaines'  edition  of  the  Folio 
Prayer  Book,  in  substantial  binding,  reduced  to  $3. 

Among  the  Books  published  by  them  in  aid  of  Christian 

knowledge  and  piety,  are  the  following : 

GOOD  MAN'S  LIFE.  Records  of  a  Good  Man's  Life,  by  Rev.  C.  B. 
Taylor.     12mo.  75  cents.     A  golden  book. 

THE  NEW  MANUAL  OF  DEVOTIONS.  —  Edited  by  the  Rt.  Rev. 
Bishop  Ives,  of  North  Carolina.     1  vol.  12mo.     Price  $1. 

THE  CHRISTIAN'S  MANUAL  of  Faith  and  Devotion — Edited  by  the 
late  Rt.  Rev.  Bishop  Hobart.     1  vol.  62§  cents. 

THORNTON'S  FAMILY  PRAYERS,  with  a  Commentary  on  our  Lord's 
Sermon  on  the  Mount.  Edited  bv  the  Rt.  Rev.  Bishop  Eastburn. 
1  vol.  12mo.     Price  75  cents. 

BICKERSTETH'S  TREATISE  On  me  lord's  Supper.  Enlarged  and 
improved  by  the  author,  and  edited  by  the  Rev.  L.  P.  W.  Balch, 
Rector  of  St.  Bartholomew's  Church,  New  York.     1  vol.  12mo.  75cts. 

THE  COMPANION  FOR  THE  ALTAR :  Or  Week's  Preparation  for 
the  Holy  Companion.  By  the  late  Right  Rev.  Bishop  Hobart.  1  vol. 
Price  50  cents. 

THE  COMMUNICANT'S  MANUAL.  By  the  same.  A  neat  pocket 
volume.     Price  1S|  cents.     Morocco  gilt,  37^  cents. 

THE  LIFE  AND  POSTHUMOUS  WORKS  of  the  late  Right  Rev.  Bish- 
op Hobart.  Edited  by  the  Rev.  Wm.  Berrian,  D.  D.  3  vols.  8vo. 
$4  50. 

THE  LIFE  AND  SERMONS  of  the  late  Right  Rev.  Nathaniel  Bow- 
en,  D.  D.  of  South  Carolina,  and  formerly  of  Grace  Church,  New- 
York.     2  vols.  8vo.  $4. 


MELVILL'S  SERMONS,  Edited  by  Bishop  McIlvaine.  3d  edition, 
in  one  large  8vo.  volume.     Price  $2  50. 

SERMONS— By  the  late  Right  Rev.  Benjamin  Moore,  D.  D.,  Bishop 
of  New- York.     2  vols.  8vo.  Price  $2  50. 

SERMONS— By  the  Rev.  J.  W.  Cunningham,  Vicar  of  Harrow,  author 
of  "  The  Velvet  Cushion,"  "  World  without  Souls,"  Sec.  Sec.  1  vol 
8vo.  $1. 

SERMONS— By  the  late  Rev.  C.  R.  uuffie,  first  Rector  of  St.  Thomas's 
Church,  New- York.     2  vols.  Svo.  $2  50. 

PALMER'S  HISTORY  of  the  Church  of  Christ.  Edited  by  the  Right 
Rev.  Bishop  Whittingham,  with  questions  annexed ;  adapting  the 
work  for  Schools  and  Parishes.     In  cloth,  62*  cents ;  in  boards,  50  cts. 

THE  LASTS  DAYS  OF  BISHOP  HEBER,  By  the  Rev.  Archdeacon 
Robinson.  A  most  interesting  work  to  all  who  venerate  the  memory 
of  this  departed  prelate.     In  1  vol.  12mo.  50  cents. 

A  TRIBUTE  OF  SYMPATHY.— Addressed  to  Mourners.  By  Newn- 
ham.     12mo.  50  cents. 

BARROW'S  TREATISE  on  the  Pope's  Supremacy.    Svo.  $1  50. 

VILLAGE  SERMONS,  On  the  Relative  Duties.  To  which  is  appended 
Sermons  to  Young  Men.     By  the  Rev.  Edward  Berens.     75  cents. 

THE  CHURCHMAN'S  MANUAL— By  the  Rev.  Benjamin  Dorr 
D.  D.     75  cents. 

AIDS  TO  REFLECTION.— By  Samuel  Taylor  Coleridge.  Witt 
the  author's  last  corrections.  Edited  by  H.  N.  Coleridge,  Esq., 
M.  A.  To  which  is  prefixed  a  Preliminary  Essay,  by  the  Rev.  J 
McVickar,  D.  D.     75  cents. 

THE  CONSTITUTION  AND  CANONS  of  the  Protestant  Episcopal 
Church  in  the  United  States  af  America:  the  whole  being  chronologi- 
cally arranged,  with  Notes  and  Remarks,  Historical  and  Explanatory. 
By  Francis  L.  Hawkes,  D.  D.     f  1  25. 

BERRIAN'S  PRAYERS.— Family  and  Private  Prayers.  By  the  Rev 
Wm.  Berrian,  D.  D.     62J  cents. 

PRAYERS  AND  OFFICES  of  Devotion  for  Families,  and  for  Particular 
Persons  upon  most  occasions.  By  Benjamin  Jenks.  Altered  and 
improved  by  the  late  Rev.  Charles  Simeon,  Fellow  of  King's  Col- 
lege, Cambridge.     50  cents. 

JERRAM  AND  WALL'S  Conversations  on  Infant  Baptism.     37J  cents 

NELSON'S  Practice  of  True  Devotion.     37 1  cents. 

HOLY  LIVING  AND  DYING.— By  the  Right  Rev.  Jeremy  Taylor. 
D.  D.     $1. 

HOBART'S  APOLOGY.— An  Apology  for  Apostolic  Order  and  its  Ad- 
vocates.  By  the  late  Right  Rev.  Bishop  Hobart.  With  Notes,  and 
a  valuable  Index  to  subjects.     50  cents. 

FESTIVALS  AND  FASTS— A  Companion  to  the  Festivals  and  Fasts 
of  the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church  in  the  United  States  of  America 
By  the  late  Bishop  Hobart. 


VILLAGE  LIFE— Character  and  Incidents  of  Village  Life,  mostly 
founded  on  facts :  intended  for  Religious  and  Moral  Instruction,  &c  fee 
By  Mrs.  Bowles.     1  vol.  ISmo.     25  cts. 

THE  STEWARD'S  RECKONING :  or  a  Series  of  Sermons  upon  the 
Tenor  and  Character  of  every  Man's  account  with  his  conscience  and 
his  God.  Also,  A  Sermon  showing  that  the  Kingdom  of  Christ  has 
no  connection  with  Civil  Governments.  By  Rev.  William  A.'Clark, 
D.  D.     1  vol.  12mo.     62|  cts. 

REASONS  WHY  I  AM  A  CHURCHMAN:  or  the  Episcopalian  Armed 
against  popular  objections. 

CLAVERSTON :  or,  The  Infidel's  Visit.     1  vol.  IS  mo.     25  cts. 

FOWLER  ON  COMMON  PRAYER.— An  Exposition  of  the  Book  ot 
Common  Prayer  and  Administration  of  the  Sacraments.  &c.  &c.  By 
the  Rev.  Andrew  Fowler.     1  vol.  12mo.     75  cts. 

PRIMITIVE  TRUTH  AND  ORDER.— Vindicated  from  Modern  Mis- 
representations, with  a  Defence  of  Episcopacy,  particularly  that  of 
Scotland,  against  an  attack  made  on  it  by  the  late  Dr.  Campbell  of 
Aberdeen.     By  the  Right  Rev.  John  Skinner.     1  vol.  Svo.     $  1. 

WORKSOF  THE  LATE  REV.  JOHN  A.  CLARK,  D.  D.— A  Walk 
about  Zion.  Young  Disciple:  or,  A  Memoir  of  Ansonetta  R.  Peters. 
Pastor's  Testimony.     Gathered  Fragments,  &c.  &c. 

THE  HISTORY  OF  A  POCKET  PRAYER  BOOK.  By  the  Rev.  Dr. 
Dorr.     ISmo.  37§  cts. 

THE  DEVOUT  CHURCHMAN'S  COMPANION;  containing  A  New 
and  Convenient  Arrangement  of  Bishop  Wilson's  Sacra  Privata  and 
Introduction  to  the  Lord's  Supper :  together  with  the  Collects  and 
Psalms,  classified  according  to  their  subjects.  Edited  by  Rev.  W  H. 
Odenheimer.     62|  cts. 

AN  ADDRESS  TO  YOUNG  PERSONS  about  to  be  confirmed.  By 
Bishop  Wilson.     Edited  by  Dr.  Dorr.     32mo.     25  cts. 

THE  RECOGNITION  OF  FRIENDS  in  Another  World.  By  theRov. 
Benjamin  Dorr,  D.D.     32mo.     25  cts. 

AN  EXPLANATION  AND  HISTORY  of  the  Book  of  Common 
Prayer :  to  which  w>  added,  The  Articles  of  Religion.    18mo.    37£  cts. 

THE  TRUE  CATrfOLIC  NO  ROMANIST:  A  Vindication  of  the  Apos- 
tolicity  and  Independence  of  the  Holy  Catholic  Church.  By  Rev.  W. 
H.  Odenheimer.     1  vol.  32mo.    37|  cts. 

DORR  ON  THE  COMMUNION.— .^n  Affectionate  Invitation  to  the 
Holy  Communion  :  being  Selection,  irom  the  works  of  Eminent  Eng- 
lish Divines.    Ry  Rev.  Benjamin  Dorr,  D.  D.     37|  cts. 

THEOLOGY  FOR  THE  PEOPLE;  a  series  of  Discourses  on  the  Cate- 
chism of  the  Prot.  Epis.  Church.  By  Bishop  Henshaw  of  Rhode  Isl- 
and.    1  vol.  Svo.    $2. 


SECKER'S  LECTURES  on  the  Church  Catechism.  1  vol.  12mo.  75 
Jts.  Also  Five  Sermons  Against  Popery,  by  the  same  Author.    25  cts. 

LEARN  TO  LIVE,  also  Learn  to  Die.  By  Christofher  Sutton, 
O.D.     12mo.  $1.  each. 

PRACTICAL  CHRISTIAN,  or  the  Devout  Penitent ;  A  book  of  De- 
votion, containing  the  whole  Duty  of  a  Christian,  on  all  occasions  and 
necessities ;  fitted  to  the  main  use  of  a  Holy  Life.  By  R.  Sherlock,  D.  D 
l2mo      $1. 

HAPPY  OLD  AGE,  Exemplified  in  the  Life  of  Mrs.  Bolton.  1  vol. 
32mo.     18| 

CHURCHMAN'S  HEAVENLY  HOURS:    or  Daily  Approaches  to 
God :  in  a  series  of  Meditations  and  Hymns,  selected  by  the  most  emi 
aent  Writers.     1  vol.  32mo.  gilt.  37§  cts. 

THE  PORTRAITURE  OF  A  CHRISTIAN  GENTLEMAN.  By 
W.  Roberts,  Author  of  Life  of  Hannah  More.   1  vol.  12mo.  37|  cts 

MEMOIRS  OF  REV.  JOHN  STANFORD,  D.  D.  By  Rev.  Charles 
G.  Sommers,  together  with  an  Appendix ;  comprising  Brief  Memoirs  ol 
the  Rev.  John  Williams,  the  Rev.  Thomas  Baldwin,  D.  D.  and  the 
Rev.  Richard  Sherman,  D.  D.,  with  a  portrait  of  Dr.  Stanford.  1  vol 
12mo.     75  cts. 

SIMEON'S  SERMONS.  The  Offices  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  Four  Ser- 
mons preached  before  the  University  of  Cambridge.  By  Rev.  Charles 
Simeon,  M.  A.     1  vol.  12mo.    37|  cts. 

THE  DOUBLE  WITNESS  OF  THE  CHURCH.  By  the  Rev.  Wit 
Ingram  Kip,  M.  A.     12mo.  Also,  The  Lenten  Fast.     By  the 

same  Author. 

MEMORIAL  OF  REV.  DR.  BAYARD,  late  Rector  of  St.  Clement 
Church,  New. York.     1  vol.  12mo. 

MY  SAVIOUR:  or  Devotional  Meditations  on  the  Name  and  Titles 
of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.     By  the  Rev.  John  East     ISmo.  50.  cts. 

HOBART'S  EDITION  OP  D'OYLY  &  MANT'S  BIBLE, 

according  to  the  Authorised  Version :  with  Notes,  Explanatory  and  Prac- 
tical ;  taken  principally  from  the  most  eminent  writers  of  the  United 
Churches  of  England  and  Ireland :  together  with  Appropriate  Introduc- 
tion, Tables  and  Index.  Prepared  and  arranged  by  the  Rev.  George 
D'Oyly,  B.  D.  and  the  Rev.  Richard  Mant,  D.  D. :  under  the  direc- 
tion of  the  Society  for  Promoting  Christian  Knowledge ;  for  the  use  of 
Families ;  with  a  large  number  of  Additional  Notes ;  selected  and  arrang- 
ed by  John  Henry  Hobart,  D.  D.,  late  Bishop  of  the  Prot.  Epis. 
Church  in  the  State  of  New-York— bound  in  2  and  3  vols.  Also  the 
New  Testament  separately.  1  vol.  $2  50.  This  work  should  be  in  every 
Church  family.  It  embodies  within  itself  a  complete  Library  of  Prac- 
tical divinity,  furnishing  the  opinion  on  sacred  subjects  of  nearlr  200 
Divines  of  the  Church  of  England  and  America. 


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UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


